t you are to keep in mind."

Judson had broken the curious eye-grip at last, and again he said,
"Why?"

Gridley hooked his finger absently in the engineer's buttonhole.

"Because, if you don't, a man named Rufford says he'll start a lead mine
in you. I heard him say it last night--overheard him, I should say.
That's all."

The master-mechanic passed on, going out by the great door which opened
for the locomotive entering-track. Judson hung upon his heel for a
moment, and then went slowly out through the tool-room and across the
yard tracks to the Crow's Nest.

He found McCloskey in his office above stairs, mouthing and grimacing
over the string-board of the new time-table.

"Well?" growled the trainmaster, when he saw who had opened and closed
the door. "Come back to tell me you've sworn off? That won't go down
with Mr. Lidgerwood. When he fires, he means it."

"You wait till I ask you for my job back again, won't you, Jim
McCloskey?" said the disgraced one hotly. "I hain't asked it yet; and
what's more, I'm sober."

"Sure you are," muttered McCloskey. "You'd be better-natured with a
drink or two in you. What's doing?"

"That's what I came over here to find out," said Judson steadily. "What
is the boss going to do about this flare-up with Bart Rufford?"

The trainmaster shrugged.

"You've got just as many guesses as anybody, John. What you can bet on
is that he will do something different."

Judson had slouched to the window. When he spoke, it was without turning
his head.

"You said something yesterday morning about me feeling for the boss's
throat along with that gang up-town that's trying to drink itself up to
the point of hitting him back. It don't strike me that way, Mac."

"How does it strike you?"

Judson turned slowly, crossed the room, and sat down in the only vacant
chair.

"You know what's due to happen, Mac. Rufford won't try it on again the
way he tried it night before last. I heard up-town that he has posted
his de-fi: Mr. Lidgerwood shoots him on sight or he shoots Mr.
Lidgerwood on sight. You can figure that out, can't you?"

"Not knowing Mr. Lidgerwood much better than you do, John, I'm not sure
that I can."

"Well, it's easy. Bart'll walk up to the boss in broad daylight, drop
him, and then fill him full o'lead after he's down. I've seen him--saw
him do it to Bixby, Mr. Brewster's foreman at the Copperette."

"Say the rest of it," commanded McCloskey.

"I've been thinking. Wh