the superintendent, had frequently given his shoulder an approving tap,
and Joe Cuttle, the fireman, often said that "the lad could run the
engine as well as any man." But Mr. Kendall, who ought to have been the
first to observe and appreciate his son's success, seemed scarcely to
have given it a thought.

"He may reason that I'll try harder if I think I'm not perfect than I
would if he praised me more," Larry often told himself, and now the
long-wished-for expression of confidence had come.

[Illustration:
LARRY]

[Illustration:
"I WANT YOU TO TAKE THIS FELLOW AWAY FROM THE ENGINE BEFORE WE'RE ALL
BLOWN OUT OF THE BUILDING TO PAY FOR HIS CARELESSNESS."]

With so much to think about, Larry could eat but little breakfast, and
his appetite was not improved by the manifest distress of his mother and
the taciturnity of his father.

"It is nearly six, Larry," reminded the latter, breaking the silence.

"Yes, sir. I will go right along."

He flung on his cap and buttoned up his coat, lingering at the door for
a parting word from his father. But none came.

"What shall I say to Mr. Gardner?" Larry asked, unable to go without
breaking the silence.