Regan didn't mean to exactly, not then--he was kind of putting it off, as it were--until next day--and fretting himself sick over it. But that afternoon old Dan, on his way down to the roundhouse--Dan took out the regular passenger local that left Big Cloud at 6.55 every evening, and to spend an hour ahead of running time with the 304 was as much a habit with Dan as breathing was--hunted Regan up in the latter's office just before the six o'clock whistle blew. For an instant Regan thought the engineer had somehow or other already heard the news, but a glance at Dan's face dispelled that idea as quickly as it had come. Dan was always smiling, but there was a smile on the wizened, puckered, honest old face now that seemed to bubble out all over it. "Regan," said old Dan, bursting with happy excitement, "I just had to drop in and tell you on the way over to the roundhouse, and the missus, she says, 'You tell Mr. Regan, Dan; he'll be rightdown glad.'" Regan got up out of his chair. There seemed a sense of disaster coming somehow that set him to breathing heavily. "Sure, Dan--sure," he said weakly. "What is it?" "Well," said Dan, "you know that--that trouble the boy got into back--back----' "Yes, I know," said Regan hastily. "Well," said Dan, "it's taken a long time, a good many years, but yesterday, you know, was pay day; and to-day, Regan, we, the missus and me, Regan, sent the last of that money East, interest and all, the last cent of it, cleaned it all up. Say, Regan, I feel like I was walking on air, and you'd ought to have seen the missus sitting up there in the cottage and smiling through the tears. 'Oh, Dan!' she says, and then she gets up and puts her two hands on my shoulders, and I felt blamed near like crying myself. 'We can start in now, Dan, to save up for old age,' she says, smiling. Say, Regan, ain't it--ain't it fine? We're going to start in now and save up for old age." Regan didn't say a word. It came with a rush, choking him up in his throat, and something misty in front of his eyes so he couldn't see--and he turned his back, searching for his hat on the peg behind his desk. He jammed his hat on his head, and jerked it low down over his forehead. "Ain't you--glad?" said old Dan, a sort of puzzled hurt in his eyes. "I'll walk over a bit of the way to the roundhouse with you, Dan," said Regan gruffly. "Come on." They stepped out of the shops, and across a spur--old Dan, still puzzled, striding along beside the master mechanic. "What's the matter, Regan?" he asked reproachfully. "I thought you'd be----" And then Regan stopped--and his hand fell in a tight grip on the other's shoulder. "I got to tell you, Dan," he blurted out. "But I don't need to tell you what I think of it. It's a damned shame! The new crowd that's running this road don't want anybody helping 'em to do it after the first of the month that's over sixty years of age. You're--you're out."