the road, for he was by
no means displeased at seeing one of the old employees in the office who
was not a member of a grievance committee.

"I want to get a pass, if you please sir, to run down to the Bluffs and
see the folks."

"Patsy wants a request for a pass over the North Western," said the
clerk, taking courage now that the subject was opened.

"Ah! is that all? now suppose I ask you to take a passenger train out
to-night, will you do it?" asked the general manager, turning to Patsy.

"What's the matter with the regular conductor?"

"Joined the strikers," was the reply.

"But the papers say the strike is over."

"It is! but a lot of you fellows don't seem to know it."

"I'm glad of it, and now I must hurry back, so as to be ready to take my
run out. Do I get the pass?"

"And you expect, when the strike is off, to go back to your old place?"

"Sure," said Patsy, "I don't intend to quit you as long as you have a
brake for me to turn."

"There's a lot of brakes that nobody is turning right now; come, you
young rascal, will you go to work?"

"Now," said the young rascal, "you know what it says at the bottom of
the time-card: 'In case of doubt take the safe side.' I'm waiting to see
which side is safe."

With that the manager went back to his desk and closed the door behind
him, and the secretary went on with his work.

Patsy stood and looked out at the window for a while, and then said half
to himself, but so the clerk could hear him: "Poor little mother, how
she will miss me to-night."

The secretary said nothing, but leaving his desk entered the office of
his chief, and when they had talked over the business of the hour and
read the story prepared by the passenger department for the press that
day, he asked what should be done for Patsy.

"Oh! give him the letter, I suppose, but he's the only employee on the
road I would do so much for."

"And he's the only one with nerve enough to ask it," said the
secretary.

"Yes, he is a bit nervy, John; but it isn't an offensive sort of nerve;
and then he's so happy. Why, he really rests me when he comes in. He's
smart, too, too smart to be a striker and he may be of some use to us
yet."

In a little while Patsy went singing himself out just as he had sung
himself in. The general manager sat watching the happy youth from the
outer door of his room until the song and the sound of footsteps died
away in the wide hall. Turning to his desk he sighed and sa