“I know what you are thinking now. You are saying, Tommy seems to be having a pretty good time. Well, did you ever see a drunk man who didn’t _seem_ to be having fun? I’m just married.” President McGuire had intended to offer his old playmate a position on the Air Line, but when he had heard him discourse for a couple of hours on the relations of “Capital and Labor,” he changed his mind. “A man who is always hugging a grievance will forget to flag,” was what passed through the President’s mind, and he concluded to leave his old friend on his native heath, where he was least liable to get into trouble. “Jack, my boy,” said McGuire, with his hand on the door of his stateroom, “you’re on the wrong leg of the ‘Y,’ and you’ll be throwing sixes all your life unless you switch. If I work hard and get to the front, and you work hard and get to the front--if each man takes care of his own job, always lending a helping hand to a fellow-worker when he can, there won’t be many misfits or failures, Jack.--Good night.” CHAPTER XXIV OVER THE BIG BRIDGE DENIS McGuire’s successor in the little shanty down by the bridge had shown a white light to the driver of the Midnight Express, and was up, and out with the dawn, to show a milk-white flag to the men on the White Mail in the morning. Down at East St. Louis, Roadmaster McGuire and Mrs. McGuire, who, in addition to being “the President’s mother,” continued to make herself generally useful about the house, were crossing the big bridge in order to be at the Union depot when the White Mail came in with the “Maid of Erin.” McGuire had been called early, and at dawn, when the black steed stopped to drink at Highland, Mrs. McGuire joined him. The President tried hard to appreciate the situation. Here was the realization of a dream that he had not dared dream in his happiest and most hopeful moods. He was going over the Silver Creek bridge on the White Mail and in his own private car, and he tried to feel perfectly satisfied with himself and the world. If he could only work himself up to feeling as proud and important as he did the day he took charge of the mule, the tank, and all the company’s property at West Silver Creek, he would be glad, but it would not go. He was really a great man now, and that enabled him to appreciate what a little bit of a hole would be left if one great man were to be pulled out of the world.