“All right,” agreed Nixon, rising and slipping into his coat. “Let me see—this is Wednesday. I’ll come in Friday morning at this time for your answer. How’ll that suit?” Mr. Schofield nodded curtly, and with a bland wave of the hand to the others, Nixon went to the door and let himself out. The superintendent gazed moodily at the closed door for a moment, then he rose and walked to the window and stared down over the yards. “Well,” he said at last, turning back to the others, “there are three courses open.” “Three?” repeated Mr. Plumfield, in evident surprise. “Yes, three. In the first place, we can back down and reinstate Bassett.” “Yes.” “In the second place, we can refuse to do it and fight it out.” “Yes.” “And in the third place we can avoid either.” “How?” “By bribing Nixon.” “Bribing Nixon?” “Yes. You heard him say that there wouldn’t be any strike until he called it?” “Yes.” “But you didn’t see how he looked at me when he said it. If ever a man invited a bribe, without putting the invitation in so many words, he did. A thousand dollars would do it.” “But you won’t offer it!” cried Allan eagerly. “You won’t do that!” “No,” said Mr. Schofield, smiling as he looked at the flushed face. “I won’t do it. I’m going to advise a fight. But the decision doesn’t rest with me. I’ll have to go to Cincinnati in the morning and take it up with the general manager.” “But to give a bribe—” Allan began. “Sounds bad, doesn’t it? And yet I don’t think the general manager will waste much time thinking about the moral side of it. That’s not what he’s there for. He’s there to work for the best interests of the road. A strike is sure to cost us a good many times a thousand dollars—how many times nobody can tell till it’s over. Which is best for the road?” Allan’s head was whirling. After all, there was truth in what Mr. Schofield said. The only question for the general manager to consider was just that—what was best for the road. Mr. Schofield turned from the window and looked at him again. “I tell you what,” he said, suddenly, “I’d like to have you go along. Will you?” “Go along?” “And hear the other side of it. It’ll do you good, and maybe it’ll do us good to have you,” he added. “I’ll be glad to,” answered Allan, his face flushing suddenly, and hastened back to his desk to get things in shape so that he could be absent on the morrow. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER VIII MR. ROUND’S DECISION