smoking-compartment, and rather drowsily studied some calculations. He
was bound West from Montreal, and in the morning would resume his labors
at a construction camp. There was much to be done and the construction
bosses who had sent for him were getting impatient.

Lister's thoughts wandered from the figures. He liked his occupation and
admitted that he had been lucky, but began to see he had gone as far as
he could expect to go. The trouble was, he had not enjoyed the
scientific training that distinguished the men who got important posts.
His mechanical career began in the engine-room of a wheat-boat on the
lakes, and he had entered the railroad company's service when shipping
was bad and steamers were laid up. Although he had studied for a term or
two at McGill University, he knew his drawbacks. Sometimes promotion was
given for merit, but for the most part the men who made progress came
from technical colleges and famous engineering works.

An accident in the ranges on the Pacific slope, when a mountain
locomotive jumped the track and plunged down a precipitous hillside,
gave Lister his first chance. He got the locomotive back to the line,
and being rewarded by a better post, stubbornly pushed himself nearer
the front. Now, however, it looked as if he must stop. Rules were not
often relaxed in favor of men who had no highly-placed friends. Yet
Lister wondered.

Not long since, a gentleman whose word carried some weight at the
company's office had visited the construction camp with his indulged
daughter. The girl was clever, adventurous, and interested by pioneer
work, and Lister had helped her to some thrills she obviously enjoyed.
She had, with his guidance, driven a locomotive across a shaking,
half-braced bridge, fired a heavy blasting shot, and caught big gray