SUPERINTENDENT SCHOFIELD was at his desk bright and early next morning, for the purpose of getting out of the way the thirty-six hours’ accumulation of routine business, before the approaching momentous interview with Nixon. Only one familiar with the executive offices of a railroad has any idea of the immense amount of correspondence,—reports, complaints, requests for information and instructions—which that stretch of time can accumulate, but the superintendent waded into the pile of letters and telegrams with a rapidity born of long practice, and when he finally leaned back in his chair, with a sigh of relief, it wanted still some minutes of nine o’clock. “That’s all, Joe,” he said, to the stenographer, and that young man gathered up the letters, closed his note-book, and left the room. Mr. Schofield swung around in his chair and stared down over the yards, his forehead wrinkled thoughtfully. He and Mr. Round had, the afternoon before, gone over carefully every detail of the approaching interview, and yet it was very possible that some trivial incident might spoil it all. Most unpleasant of all loomed the possibility that he had been mistaken in his estimate of Nixon. Perhaps the man would not take a bribe—perhaps he was honest. Should that prove to be the case, any such attempt as Mr. Schofield was about to undertake could not but result most unpleasantly to himself and to the railroad. He could already see the newspaper headlines which would announce it—for the press of the country had, as a rule, followed the crowd and joined in the yelp at the heels of the “conscienceless corporations.” ATTEMPT TO BRIBE! -------------- Schofield, of the P. & O., Gives Convincing Evidence of Corporation Methods -------------- Offers Special Delegate Nixon a Thousand Dollars to Betray His Trust -------------- Believes All Men May be Bought, but Is Shown that Labour Is Unpurchasable— Grand Jury to Investigate He realized that he must feel his way with the utmost caution, and yet as he recalled Nixon’s words, and the significant glance which accompanied them, he could not believe that he had been mistaken. But the man was adroit and suspicious—a single false movement and he would be on his guard. A tap at the door interrupted his thoughts. “Come in,” he called, and an instant later, the door opened and Nixon entered the room. “On time, I see,” said Mr. Schofield, pleasantly, and motioned his visitor to a chair.