"Oh, I'd risk the trouble," said the conductor, placing the lantern on
the floor and taking his seat beside the engineer. "I heard about your
worry to-day. It's too bad. If a man had got drunk at his post, as you
and I have known 'em to do, it wouldn't have seemed so hard; but at its
worst your case was only an error of judgment, and then nothing really
happened. Old Eighty-six seems to have the habit of pulling herself
through. I suppose you and she have been in worse fixes than that,
with not a word said about it."

"Oh, yes," said John, "we've been in many a tight place together, but
we won't be any more. It's rough, as you say. I've been fifteen years
with the company, and seven on old Eighty-six, and at first it comes
mighty hard. But I suppose I'll get used to it."

"Look here, John," said the conductor, lowering his voice to a
confidential tone, "the president of the road is with us to-night; his
private car is the last but one on the train. How would it do to speak
to him? If you are afraid to tackle him, I'll put in a word for you in
a minute, and tell him your side of the story."

John Saggart shook his head.

"It wouldn't do," he said; "he wouldn't overrule what one of his
subordinates had done, unless there was serious injustice in the case.
It's the new manager, you know. There's always trouble with a new
manager. He sweeps clean. And I suppose that he thinks by 'bouncing'
one of the oldest engineers on the road, he will scare the rest."

"Well, I don't think much of him between ourselves," said the
conductor. "What do you think he has done to-night? He's put a new man