"How generous your heart is, Eleanor, when you let it speak for itself! If you will promise not to let it change your opinion of me--you shouldn't change it, you know, for I am the same man whom you held up to scorn the day we parted--if you will promise, I'll tell you that for weeks I have gone about with my life in my hands, knowing it. It hasn't required any great amount of courage; it merely comes along in the line of my plain duty to the company--it's one of the things I draw my salary for." "You haven't told me why this desperado wanted to kill you--why you are in such a deep sea of trouble out here, Howard," she reminded him. "No; it is a long story, and it would bore you if I had time to tell it. And I haven't time, because that is Williams's whistle for the Angels yard." He had risen and was helping his companion to her feet when Mrs. Brewster came to the car door to say: "Oh, you are out here, are you, Howard? I was looking for you to let you know that we dine in the _Nadia_ at seven. If your duties will permit----" Lidgerwood's refusal was apologetic but firm. "I am very sorry, Cousin Jessica," he protested. "But I left a deskful of stuff when I ran away to the wreck this morning, and really I'm afraid I shall have to beg off." "Oh, don't be so dreadfully formal!" said the president's wife impatiently. "You are a member of the family, and all you have to do is to say bluntly that you can't come, and then come whenever you can while we are here. Carolyn Doty is dying to ask you a lot more questions about the Red Desert. She confided to me that you were the most interesting talker----" Miss Eleanor's interruption was calculated to temper the passed-on praise. "He has been simply boring me to death, mamma, until just a few minutes ago. I shall tell Carolyn that she is too easily pleased." Mrs. Brewster, being well used to Eleanor's flippancies, paid no attention to her daughter. "You will come to us whenever you can, Howard; that is understood," she said. And so the social matter rested. Lidgerwood was half-way down the platform of the Crow's Nest, heading for his office and the neglected desk, when Williams's engine came backing through one of the yard tracks on its way to the roundhouse. At the moment of its passing, a little man with his cap pulled over his eyes dropped from the gangway step and lounged across to the head-quarters building. It was Judson; and having seen him last toiling away man-fashion at the wreck in the Crosswater Hills, Lidgerwood hailed him. "Hello, Judson! How did you get here? I thought you were doing a turn with McCloskey." The small man's grin was ferocious. "I was, but Mac said he didn't have any further use for me--said I was too much of a runt to be liftin' and pullin' along with growed-up men. I came down with Williams on the '66."