An engine pulled out of the freight yard as they were about to pass and stood coughing and panting upon the path, blocking their passage. A shower of cinders dropped through the grate bars, turned a dull red and then expired; a man ran along the top of the cars swinging his lamp in frantic signals; the moist, grimy face of the fireman peered through the cab window, his inflamed eyes blinking at the fluttering red spark; then the lever was reversed with a jerk, and back they go until a sudden crash and a shrill “Why-OO!” tells the engineer that another car has been added to his string. “Come on,” said Goose, “here comes the ‘loco’ again. What are youse lookin’ at?” Murphy was gazing over his shoulder into the shadow and did not take advantage of the shifting engine’s retreat. Two men were swiftly crossing the street toward them. “Here comes a couple o’ gents what wants to sling us a breeze,” said Larry. “It’s either the price of a bed they’re chasin’ up, or they want to give us a piece o’ lead pipe.” “The fat one looks like old Kelly,” observed McGonagle. “Say, _he_ can’t be on the fight, kin he?” They waited for the men to come up; and once more the signal lamp swayed up and down, once more the engine wheezed out upon the path, groaning and hissing as though in protest. A man rushed down the track, paused under the flaring head-light to look at some papers, and then began swearing at someone in the darkness. He had lost one hand and the stump was armed with an iron hook; this he waved frantically. “Drop them last cars! Go down the next siding and pick up the flats! You know better than this, Conroy!” The engine seemed to have caught his humour for it snorted angrily; the crew began twisting madly at the brakes, the lamps were set swinging down the track; a shadowy form darted out of the gloom, threw open a switch and was immediately swallowed up again. The panting of the locomotive grew fainter; from far down the yard its head-light burned like a dim, red spark. The man with the hook entered a watch box and angrily slammed the door. Silence! “We heard that yez had come this way,” remarked Kelly, as he came up. “McQuirk an’ mesilf were passin’ Phil Burk’s place as he wur shuttin’ up an’ he towld us yez had started for the club.” “We want to have a little talk,” said the boss, as they walked along. “A little confabulation, you know.” Larry nudged his friend, and received a like signal in return. “All right,” said he, cheerfully, “sing your song, Mac. What’s on yer mind?” “We want till ax yez--” Kelly began, hurriedly; but McQuirk stopped him. “Let me tend to this,” requested he, coolly. He turned to Larry and in a fatherly fashion laid his hand upon his shoulder. They were under an arc lamp and in the blue-white light, Larry saw that his face was wrinkling with smiles.