Reade looked up in surprise. “Are you going to ‘can’ him?” Stephen made no answer, but continued to dictate: “I have secured the services of a very good man, who until recently has been at the head of that work in the Quentin Mining Company and who, I think, will fill the position very satisfactorily.” “That is all, Reade.” The stenographer left the room, whistling softly. “He sure acts with precision,” murmured Reade, as he closed the door. “When Fitz answered back at mess the other night, I knew he’d get into trouble. The Boss never speaks twice, and now that the men understand his ways, he don’t need to.” A short half-hour after Loring had finished his letter the stage from the northward drew up outside the office door, and a passenger descended from it. Loring opened the window, looked out, and recognized his old friend McKay. “Prompt as usual!” thought Loring. “I did not expect him until to-morrow or the day after; but I like his coming so soon. Promptness means efficiency.” Loring smiled when he heard McKay tell the driver to charge the trip to the Company. “Mac has not much to learn of business methods in the west,” Loring chuckled, as he hastened to resume his seat at the desk. A little later he heard a thump, as McKay dropped his bag on the porch, and then he heard him asking for the manager. Some one directed the stranger to the office, and Loring heard the creak of his boots on the stairs. Stephen, for he had a streak of vanity in his nature, lighted a cigar, and pretended to be very busy over some papers. After a moment he looked up, to find McKay staring in such open-mouthed astonishment that it seemed as if his teeth were in danger of falling back down his throat. “Well, I’ll be damned!” he finally ejaculated. “What are _you_ doing here?” “I am the manager,” said Stephen in a dignified manner. Then he could keep a sober face no longer, and burst into a laugh, in which McKay, though in a dazed and uncertain manner, joined. Stephen jumped up from his chair and shook hands with his old boss. McKay continued to swing his arm up and down, as though this grip were his one hold upon the world of realities. “You! How on earth did it happen? You must have been a heap wiser than I thought!” exclaimed McKay. The only danger of being thought wise is that one is tempted to prove it; but Stephen safely avoided this danger. “Anyhow, Mac,” he answered, “here I am and here I hope I’ll remain, and there is a lot of work for you to do here. Things have been allowed to deteriorate to such an extent that it takes more time to rebuild than it must have taken to construct the whole plant. Fortunately we have the original plans designed by the people who had opened the mine, and though they are no key to what has been done, they give a pretty good idea of what was meant to be done.” As he spoke he pulled a roll of blue prints out from the desk drawer, and drawing up a chair beside him for McKay, he started to outline the work.