“Jack’s right,” said Reddy. “Now I’ve reached my limit in section foreman. It’s as fur as I kin go. I ain’t complainin’. I’m contented. But some of us is built fer speed, an’ some of us is built fer strength. Some of us has to pull freight, and some gits to pull polished Pullmans, but I reckon it all comes to th’ same thing in the end.” “Yes,” said Allan, quietly, “passenger and freight all have the same destination. And you know, as well as I do, that it’s the freight that counts most when it comes to figuring results.” The ringing of the telephone bell interrupted them, and Mamie ran to answer it. She was back in a moment. “Somebody wants you, Allan,” she said. “Mr. Schofield, I think.” Anxious eyes followed him, as he arose and went to the ’phone. A call from the superintendent might mean so many things—usually did mean disaster of some kind. He was gone a long time, and as the minutes lengthened, the shadow on the faces of those about the table deepened. They tried at first to keep up a semblance of conversation, but that finally dropped away and they sat silent. That it was something serious was evident. But Allan came back at last, and as he caught sight of their anxious faces, he laughed outright. “No, it’s not a wreck,” he said, “and I’m not fired.” He sat down, and the others waited. If it was anything he could tell them, they knew he would. If it was official business, they did not wish to question him. “The fact is,” he went on, slowly, watching Mamie’s face with evident amusement, “a very unusual thing has happened.” “Oh, Allan!” Mamie burst out, “if you’re going to tell us, please hurry and do it.” “A very unusual thing,” Allan proceeded with provoking deliberation. “You know I told you that Mr. Hayes is going to Springfield.” “Yes,” said Mamie, encouragingly, bouncing in her seat. “Ain’t he goin’?” asked Jack. “Oh, yes; he’s going. He went this afternoon. But the fact is, Goodwood don’t want his job.” “Why?” “He says the hours are too long, and the added responsibility more than the added salary. He says he’s contented where he is.” “Ho!” said Reddy. “Reached his limit jest like me, an’ knows it. Well, it’s a wise man that knows when to let well enough alone.” But Mamie’s face suddenly gleamed with understanding, and she jumped from her seat and rushed around the table to Allan’s side. “I know!” she cried. “I know! Oh, you stupid people! Don’t you see? Allan’s to be chief dispatcher!” They were all on their feet now. “What, Allan! Is it?” cried Jack, incoherently. “Yes,” answered Allan, “I guess it is.” Jack came over to him and put his hands on his shoulders. “Eight year ago to-day,” he said, looking him in the eyes. “I’m proud of ye, me boy. But I don’t need t’ tell ye that.” “And he’ll make the best chief this division ever had,” added Reddy with conviction. “Where’s my hat?” “But you ain’t goin’!” protested Mrs. Welsh. “It’s early yet.”