In the days that followed, Allan certainly felt no inclination to run away. He applied his whole mind to acquiring a full knowledge of the dispatcher's work. He studied diligently the various forms of train-order, and picked up such information as he could concerning the capacity of the various engines and the character of engineers and conductors. At the end of the week, he felt that he had the office work of the dispatcher pretty well learned. Another week was spent in "learning the road"--a week during which every daylight hour was spent in travelling over the road on freight and passenger, learning the location and length of sidings, the position of switches, water-tanks, and signals. Whenever he could he rode on the engine, for though that method of travel had long since lost its novelty, its fascination for the boy had increased rather than diminished. Besides, there was always a great deal of information to be picked up from the engineer, as well as no little entertainment. For the engineer, especially if he was an old one, was sure to possess a rich store of tales of the road--tales humourous or tragic, as the case might be--tales of practical jokes, of ghosts, of strange happenings, or of accidents and duty done at any cost, of fearless looking in the face of death. He had taken a trip over the entire east end, on the last day of the week, and decided to make the return trip on an extra freight, which was to leave Belpre, the eastern terminus of the freight business, about the middle of the afternoon. So he got a lunch at the depot restaurant at Parkersburg, and then walked across the big bridge which spans the Ohio there, reaching the yards at Belpre just as the freight was getting ready to pull out. He was pleased to find that the engineer was Bill Michaels, an old friend, who at once suggested that there was a place in the cab at Allan's disposal, if he cared to occupy it. Allan thanked him and clambered up right willingly, taking his place on the forward end of the long seat which ran along the left side of the cab--the fireman's side. He watched the engineer "oil round"--that is, walk slowly around the engine, a long-spouted oil-can in his hand, and make sure that all the bearings were properly lubricated and all the oil-cups full. The fireman meanwhile devoted his energies to feeding his fire and getting up steam, and Allan perceived, from a certain awkwardness with which he handled the shovel and opened and shut the heavy door of the fire-box, that he was new to the business. But even a green fireman can get up steam when his engine is standing still, so the needle of the indicator climbed steadily round the dial, until at last, the pressure threw up the safety-valve and the engine "popped off." The fireman leaned wearily upon his shovel and scraped the sweat from his forehead with bent forefinger. "Hot work, isn't it?" said Allan, smiling.