“But you are getting ready to do it as soon as you finish school,” rejoined his sister. “And you must have a vacation, you know. Besides, think how much you do to help Sydney.” “Oh, I only do a little copying for him now and then.” He was going to add more, but at this point he caught that glimpse of the man on the trestle which brought about the interruption in the talk already described. Roy soon emerged from the line of shade in his climb up the embankment and the scorching afternoon sun beat down on him mercilessly. But he did not cease his exertions to reach the top as quickly as possible. He knew that a train for the city would be along very soon now; he remembered the curve just beyond the bridge; the engineer could not see whether there was an obstruction in the way, until he should be too close on it to stop. Then he thought of Mr. Tyler, and of how nobody liked him, with all his money, which he hoarded like a miser. He was probably crossing the bridge now to take the train for the city from Marley, and save the additional five cents he might have to pay if he boarded it at Burdock, which was much nearer his home. But he was human, he was an old man; he was helpless now, doubtless overcome by the heat. And there was nobody about but Roy to prevent what might be a tragedy. On he toiled. The loose dirt slid out from under his feet and rattled down the hillside behind him. The perspiration poured from his face in streams. What a contrast this was, he thought, to sitting there over the creek placidly fishing! He had gained the top now and, scarcely pausing to take a long breath, he ran out over the ties till he reached Mr. Tyler’s prostrate form. He had fallen fortunately not very far from the beginning of the trestle, but he was quite unconscious and could not help himself. Roy must carry him away from his dangerous position. He bent to his task, which was not such an arduous one as might be supposed. Mr. Tyler was little more than a bag of bones, weighing not as much as did Roy himself. The latter picked him up as carefully as he could, not daring to look down lest he should grow dizzy. Then he began to bear his burden back to _terra firma._ He had almost reached the ground when the old man stirred and opened his eyes. He started to struggle, but Roy looked down at him and spoke sternly. “Keep quiet, Mr. Tyler,” he said, “or you will have us both over the trestle.” The miser shuddered, but he made no reply and kept perfectly still till Roy placed him on the grass in the shade of a horse chestnut tree. The boy threw himself down beside him, and began to fan himself with his straw hat. The next minute, with a shrill whistle, the train rushed by them. “You saved my life, Roy Pell,” said Mr. Tyler after the skurrying dust raised from the ballast had settled into place. “You are a brave boy.” Roy made no reply. He was still very hot and he was thinking that his whole adventure was very much like a scene in a book.