“He’s gittin’ along as well as could be expected.” “Is he able to sit up?” “Yes, sir; he sets up a little every day.” “This is Schofield talking. I wonder if I could see him this afternoon?” “Yes, sir; I guess so,” answered the voice, but without enthusiasm. “Well, tell him I’ll be down in about an hour—and if he can’t see me yet awhile, let me know. “All right, sir.” “It’s Mister Schofield wantin’ to see you,” Mary announced to Allan, three minutes later. “Says he’ll be here in an hour. Hadn’t I better tell him you ain’t able?” “Oh, I guess I’m able,” said Allan, smiling up at her. He was lying back in a great chair, with Mamie beside him. “Well, it’s time he was askin’ after ye.” “He’s been pretty busy, I suspect.” Mary snorted. “A good excuse! An’ I know what he’s comin’ fer.” “What?” asked Allan, smiling broadly. “He’ll be wantin’ to know when you’re comin’ back to work.” “And I’ll tell him Monday.” “Monday, indeed,” cried Mary and Mamie both. “Why, I’m all right again,” Allan protested. “A little shaky and scary, but I’ll get over that.” “Well, we’ll see about it,” said Mamie, in a tone which told that she was far from being convinced. Mrs. Welsh went about her household work, leaving the two together, and presently there came the expected knock at the door. But when she opened it, it was not Mr. Schofield alone who stood there. With him was a man with blue eyes and light hair and flowing blonde moustache whom Mrs. Welsh had never seen before. “How do you do, Mrs. Welsh,” said Mr. Schofield, shaking hands with her. “This is Mr. Round,” he added, and Mr. Round also shook hands. “Can we see the invalid?” “Ye-yes, sir,” stammered Mary, more overwhelmed than she had ever been in her life. “Right up these stairs, sir.” She led the way and ushered them into Allan’s room. He started and flushed when he saw who Mr. Schofield’s companion was. “No,” said Mr. Schofield, smiling at Mrs. Welsh, “I didn’t come this time to ask you when you’re coming back to work; but to say good-bye.” “Good-bye?” echoed Allan. “You’re not going away?” “He’s got too big for us,” said Mr. Round. “I’ve been afraid of it for a long time. Let me introduce you to the new general superintendent of the Rock Island.” “What!” cried Allan, his face beaming. “Oh, but I’m glad!” and he held out his hand eagerly. “Sorry, too,” he added. “You’ve been one of the best friends I ever had.” “And always will be,” said Mr. Schofield heartily. “We’re all proud of you, Allan. Let me see, how old are you?” “Twenty-seven.” “Rather young for train master,” said Mr. Round, looking at him quizzically. “Train master?” Allan echoed, suddenly white. “Though we’ll try you, anyway,” and Mr. Round smiled broadly. “That is, if you accept.” “Why,” stammered Allan, “I can’t—I don’t—” “Don’t try. There’s no hurry, either. You know what I said to you about a vacation?” “Yes,” said Allan. “And you said something about a honeymoon.”