the scene of action he missed hearing the comments of his fellow
craftsmen.

"You bet, he's no 'prentice," said the fireman.

"Not much!" quoth the engineer. "He's an all-round artist, that's
about what he is. Shouldn't wonder if he was the travelin' engineer
for some road back in God's country."

"Travelin' nothing!" said the conductor. "More likely he's a
train-master, 'r p'raps a bigger boss than that. Call in the flag,
Jim, and we'll be getting a move."

Oddly enough, the comment on Winton did not pause with the encomiums
of the train crew. When the Limited was once more rushing on its way
through the night, and Virginia and her cousin were safe in the
privacy of their state-room, Miss Carteret added her word.

"Do you know, Bessie, I think it was Mr. Adams who scored this
afternoon?" she said.

"How so?" inquired _la petite_ Bisque, who was too sleepy to be
over-curious.

"I think he 'took a rise' out of me, as he puts it. Mr. Winton is
precisely all the kinds of man Mr. Adams said he wasn't."