Magnus eyed them one by one, desiring none of them in his seat, and only hoping they would leave it and him alone, until just as the train began to pull out of the station. There came in then a man of a different type of citizenship. Of good height and sturdy build; close shaven, close cropped: a dress and outfit scrupulously neat and in order, but evidently bought at the shop of Comfort and Use, and not from that tailor to all the crowned heads, High Style. Over the whole man was that look of absolute cleanness--mental, moral, and physical--which a smooth face always sets off to the best advantage. Step firm and businesslike, eyes quick and kind. A man "at leisure from himself," for all the work his Master might set before him. Was there, perhaps, work here? The car had thinned out a good deal by this time; people dropping off at one and another station, getting to their homes as the night drew on, and there were many vacant seats: here two together, and there one by somebody else. Mr. Wayne paused a moment, looking down the car, and from under his straw hat Magnus watched him, with a vague longing that he would come and sit by _him_. That is a wonderfully lovely glimpse of unseen things, in one of the chapters of the book of Daniel, where one angel says to another, "Run, speak to that young man." I suppose Mr. Wayne was conscious of no audible monition; but after that moment's pause, he stepped down the car, past one and another tempting "whole" seat, and took his place by young Charlemagne Kindred. IV READY FOR DUTY The man that wants me is the man I want. --DR. EDWARD PAYSON. "This seat is not engaged? You are not expecting a companion?" the stranger said as he sat down. "No, sir, I have nobody to expect," said Magnus, his tone making the answer broader than the question. "Nobody to expect?" Mr. Wayne repeated the words, then went on softly to himself, yet just so that Magnus caught the sound, "'My soul, wait thou upon God, for my expectation is from him.'" "Where does this train stop for supper?" he said abruptly, after a minute or two. "They had supper at Beaver Junction." "So, so! Just where I got in. Have you had yours?" "No, sir. I didn't want any." "Well, you and I wear our family likeness with a difference," said Mr. Wayne. "I have had no supper either, but I want it. They _used_ to stop at Edenton. Been a change, I suppose, since the extension of the road." He rose up and went to the further end of the car, where the conductor was taking a minute's rest; coming back with the word that another chance for refreshments would be at Centerville Junction, where they had to wait for the train from Combination. "Then you and I will go and sup together," he said. "I don't want any supper," the boy repeated. "What's the matter? You're not sick?" and the keen eyes made a closer survey. "No, indeed, sir." "The home station is close at hand, then, is it?"