All of the men were completely tired out by the long night tramp, as well as chagrined over their ill success, but Allan was up again as usual next morning and started off upon his tramp along the track. “Now, be careful of yourself, darlint,” Mary cautioned him, as she saw him off, and Allan promised to be especially alert. There could be no doubt that it was Dan Nolan they had seen at the door of the hut the night before, but Allan only half-believed that Nolan still preserved his enmity toward him. Certainly, he decided, it was not worth worrying about,—worrying never did any good. He would be ready to meet danger as it came, but he greatly doubted if it would ever come, at least, to himself personally. He had grown to like this duty of patrolling the track. It had been a pleasant duty, and an uneventful one, for at no time had he found anything wrong, or met with unpleasant adventure of any kind. But those long walks through the fresh, cold air, with the dawn just tingeing the east, opened a new world to the boy. It was no longer the hot, dusty, work-a-day world of labour, but a sweet, cool, clean world, where joy dwelt and where a man might grow. He heard the birds greet the sunrise with never-failing joy; he heard the cattle lowing in the fields; even the river beside the road seemed to dance with new life, as the sun’s rays sought it out and gilded its every ripple. It was not a long walk—three miles out and three back—and what an appetite for breakfast it gave him! Even these few months had wrought a great change in him. He was browned by the sun and hardened by toil, as has been said already; but the change was greater than that. It was mental as well as physical. He had grown older, and his face had gained the self-reliant look of the man who is making his own way in the world and who is sure of himself. Despite all this extra work, Section Twenty-one was kept in perfect condition, and the train-master noted it, as he noted everything else about the road. “You’re doing good work, Welsh,” he said to Jack one day, when he chanced to meet him in the yards. “I’ve got a good gang,” answered the foreman, proudly. “There’s one o’ my men that’s too good fer section work. He ort t’ have a better job, Mr. Schofield; one, anyway, where ther’s a chance fer permotion—in th’ offices.” “Yes?” and the official smiled good-naturedly. “I think I know who you mean. I’ll keep him in mind, for we always need good men. This extra work will soon be over, though. As soon as cold weather sets in, the hoboes will strike for the South, and I don’t believe they’ll ever trouble us again.” “Mebbe not,” agreed Jack, dubiously. “But I’d be mighty glad to hear that Dan Nolan was locked up safe somewhere. You haven’t found any trace of him?” “No. He seems to have disappeared completely. I believe he’s scared out, and cold weather will rid us of all the rest.” “Mebbe so,” said Jack; “mebbe so. Anyway, I wish cold weather’d hurry up an’ come.”