“For knowing more about the burning of the Jones Run bridge the other night than he’s willing to tell.” “Do you mean he set it on fire?” inquired one of the men, incredulously. “Oh, no; but I think he ran past it after it was on fire and didn’t stop to put it out, as he should have done.” “Does Bassett admit it?” “No, of course not.” “Why should he run past the fire?” “Maybe he was asleep and didn’t see it.” “And have you any evidence?” “None but his manner,” answered Mr. Plumfield frankly. “Well,” said the spokesman, twirling his cap in his hands, “all I can say is that that’s mighty poor evidence, it seems to me. We had a meetin’ at the lodge last night, and we was appointed a committee to see you and demand that Bassett be reinstated at once.” “All right,” said Mr. Plumfield, “I’ll consider it.” “And when can we have our answer?” “This afternoon at three o’clock,” answered the train master sharply. “All right, sir,” said the spokesman of the committee, and the three men filed out. Mr. Plumfield looked over at Allan, after a moment, with a little laugh. “I’m afraid those fellows have got me,” he said. “I’m morally convinced that Bassett’s crooked, but there’s no way to prove it. I’m afraid I’ll have to back down. I made a mistake in suspending him in the first place, but the man’s manner irritated me.” And so, that afternoon, when the committee reappeared, it was informed that Bassett had been reinstated as requested. They filed out with ill-concealed triumph on their faces, and Mr. Plumfield felt uncomfortably that his mistake had been a serious one. In gaining a victory, Bassett had enthroned himself more firmly than ever in the confidence of his associates. Three hours later, in the dusk of the early winter evening, Mr. Plumfield left his office and started toward his home. As he crossed the tracks, and came opposite a saloon which occupied the corner nearest the station, the door suddenly swung open and two or three men stumbled out. They were talking loudly, and as they came under the glare of the street lamps, Mr. Plumfield saw that one of them was Bassett. The engineer saw him at the same moment. “Why, here’s the train master,” he cried, lurching forward. “Well, so ye had t’ crawfish, didn’t ye, me bird? An’ well fer ye ye did!” “Bassett,” said Mr. Plumfield, quietly, “you’re drunk. Take care, or you’ll get a dose a good deal worse than the last one.” “Oh, I will, will I?” cried Bassett, coming closer. “Well, you jest try it! You jest try it!” “All right,” said Mr. Plumfield. “You don’t need to report any more. You’re not in the employ of the P. & O. any longer.” “Ain’t I?” cried Bassett. “Well, we’ll see what the boys say to that! You heerd this, boys—” But without waiting to hear more, Mr. Plumfield went on his way. This time, he felt, he would have to stick to his decision, no matter what happened. And he felt, too, that he was right. ------------------------------------------------------------------------