“It isn’t altogether on high moral grounds I’m deciding this way,” he said. “It’s because I don’t think a strike, starting from such a fool cause, will hurt us. I think it will help us. We need public sympathy and public confidence. The public has been weaned away from us by a lot of muck-rakers. Here’s a chance to get it back. And now, Ed,” he added, “you’ve got to make a grand-stand play.” “All right,” agreed Mr. Schofield. “What is it?” “You’ve got to bribe Nixon.” “Bribe Nixon?” “And show him up.” A light broke over Mr. Schofield’s face. “Oh!” he said. “I see.” “You and I will talk it over,” said Mr. Round. “But it’s lunch time,” he added, looking at his watch. “Of course you’re coming with me.” So the three went out to lunch together, and for a time forgot the cares of railroading. Only once was the road referred to. “I’ve got to see Mr. Heywood before I go back,” Mr. Schofield remarked. “There’s one or two little matters I want to take up with him.” Mr. Round’s face darkened. “You won’t see him to-day,” he said. “Why not?” questioned Mr. Schofield. “The fact of the matter is,” said Mr. Round, after a moment’s hesitation, “Heywood hasn’t been at his office for three days.” “Hum!” said Mr. Schofield, his face darkening too. “Has it got that bad? I’d heard stories, of course, but I’d hoped they were exaggerated.” “He’s been getting worse and worse, and I don’t believe he’ll hold his job much longer. He may be let down easy, because he’s been a good man—and he’d be a good man yet if he could let drink alone. But it’s getting more and more hold on him all the time. He knows it and is ashamed of it, but he don’t seem to have strength enough to break away from it. It’s too bad.” “Yes, it is,” agreed Mr. Schofield. “What I hate about it most is the humiliation his daughter must suffer. I don’t know whether you knew her or not—Betty Heywood—but she was a mighty nice girl.” “No, I didn’t know her,” said Mr. Round. “But she seems to have saved herself. I heard the other day that she was going to get married.” Allan’s heart bounded suddenly, and his face reddened, but neither of his companions noticed his agitation. “That’s a good thing,” said Mr. Schofield. “Who’s the man?” “I don’t remember his name,” answered Mr. Round. “I heard some of the boys talking about it the other day—of course there may be nothing in it.” “Well, I hope it’s so,” remarked the other. “It would solve a mighty unpleasant situation. Now, I’m going to turn you loose for the afternoon, Allan,” he added. “Meet me in time to catch Number Two and we’ll have dinner together on the diner.” “Very well, sir,” said Allan, welcoming the opportunity to be alone with his thoughts. “I’ll be there.”