Kirkwood, entered the smoking car. His companion, a tall, well-built
man, having a smooth face, and a very erect carriage, walked with a
business-like step down the platform until he reached the express car.
Tossing the valise which he carried into the car, he climbed in himself
with the aid of the hand-rail on the side of the door, and, as the
messenger came toward him, he held out his hand, saying:

"Is this Mr. Fotheringham?"

"Yes, that's my name."

"I have a letter from Mr. Bassett for you," and, taking it from his
pocket, he handed it to the messenger.

Fotheringham read the letter carefully, and placing it in his pocket,
said:

"Going to get a job, eh?"

"Yes, the old man said he would give me a show, and as soon as there was
a regular run open, he would let me have it."

"Well, I'm pretty busy now; make yourself comfortable until we pull out,
and then I'll post you up as best I can, Mr. Bronson."

Mr. "Bronson" pulled off his overcoat, and, seating himself in a chair,
glanced around the car.

In one end packages, crates, butter, egg-cases, and parts of machinery
were piled up. At the other end a small iron safe was lying. As it