and steel. His father, a man naturally of very firm will, had earnestly
longed that his only son might succeed him in business, and so increase
and perpetuate a fortune already colossal. It was a terrible struggle for
Harris senior to yield to his son's strong inclination to study art, but
once the father had been won over, no doubt in part by the mother's
strong love for her only boy, he assured Alfonso that he would be loyal
to him, so long as his son was loyal to his profession. This had given
the boy courage, and he had improved every opportunity while in New York
to acquaint himself with art, and his application to study had been such
that he was not only popular with his fellow artists, but they recognized
that he possessed great capacity for painstaking work.

Alfonso jumped into a coupé, having ordered a carriage to follow him to
the Grand Central Station. It was ten minutes yet before the express was
due. Nervously he puffed at his unlighted cigar, wishing he had a match;
in fact, his nerves were never more unstrung. It was a happy surprise,
and no doubt his youthful vanity was elated, that his father should have
named his new palace car "Alfonso." At least it convinced him that his
father was loyal.

As the coupé stopped, he rushed into the station, just in time to see the
famous engine No. 999 pull in. She was on time to a second, as indicated
by the great depot clock. A ponderous thing of life; the steam and air
valves closed, yet her heavy breathing told of tremendous reserve power.
What a record she had made, 436-1/2 miles in 425-3/4 minutes! Truly,
man's most useful handiwork, to be surpassed only by the practical dynamo
on wheels! It was not strange that the multitude on the platform gazed in
wonder.

There at the rear of the train was the "Alfonso," and young Harris in