s hands in his pockets, and walked across
Rainsford's small room. It was in excellent order, plainly furnished but
well supplied with the things a man needs to make him comfortable. There
were even a few luxuries, like pillows on the hard sofa, bookshelves
filled with books and a student's lamp soft under a green shade. As he
turned back to the paymaster Fairfax had composed himself and said
tranquilly--

"I reckon you've got a pretty bad note against me in the ledger, haven't
you, Rainsford?"

"Note?" repeated the other vaguely. "Oh, your bad conduct report. Well,
rather."

"Who has got my job on Number Twenty-four?"

"Steve Brodie."

Fairfax nodded. "He surely does know how to drive an engine all right,
and so do I, Rainsford."

"You mustn't run any more engines, Fairfax."

"I don't want to come back to West Albany and to the yards," said the
engineer.

"I haven't much influence now," Rainsford said musingly, "but I have
some friends still. I want you to let me lend you some money, a very
small sum."

The blood rushed to Fairfax's face. He extended his hand impulsively.

"There, Rainsford, you needn't go on. You are the first chap who has put
out a rope to me. I did have twenty-five cents given me once, but
otherwise----"

"I mean it sincerely, Fairfax."

"Rainsford," said the young man, with emotion in his voice, "you are a
fine brand of failure."

"Will you let me stand by you, Fairfax?"

"Yes, indeed," said the other, "I will, but not in the way you mean. I
reckon I must have felt what kind of a fellow you were or I wouldn't be
here. At any rate you're the only person I wanted to see. I quite
understand you can't take me back at the yards, and I don't want to
drive in and out from West Albany. Could you do anything for me at the
general company, Rainsford? Would they give me a job in Albany? I'd take
a local though I'm up to an express."

"No," said Rainsford, "you mustn't think of driving engines; I won't
lift my hand to help you."

"It is all I can do," returned the engineer quietly, after a second,
"all I want." Then he said, "I've _got_ to have it...."

"Why I'll _lend_ you enough money, Fairfax, to pay your passage to
France!"

"Stop!" cried the young man with emotion, "it's too late."

"Nonsense," said the other warmly, Fairfax's voice and personality
charming him as it charmed others. "Why, you are nothing but a big,
headlong boy! You have committed a tremendous folly; you've got a