he swung along as if on
cheerful business bent, and as if all things were coming swimmingly
with him.

"How are you, Mr. Fogg?" hailed Ralph.

The fireman changed color, a half-shamed, half-defiant look came into
his face, but he clasped the extended hand of the young railroader and
responded heartily to its friendly pressure.

"I've got something to tell you, Fairbanks," he said, straightening
up as if under some striving sense of manliness.

"That's all right," nodded Ralph with a smile. "I'm going back to the
house with you, and will be glad to have a chat with you. First,
though, I want to say something to you, so we'll pause here for a
moment."

"I've--I've made a new start," stammered Fogg. "I've buried the
past."

"Good!" cried Ralph, giving his companion a hearty slap on the
shoulder, "that's just what I was going to say to you. Bury the
past--yes, deep, fathoms deep, without another word, never to be
resurrected. To prove it, let's first bury this. Kick it under that
ash heap yonder, Mr. Fogg, and forget all about it. Here's something
that belongs to you. Put it out of sight, and never speak of it or
think of it again."

And Ralph handed to the fireman the package done up in the oiling
cloth that he had unearthed from Fogg's bunker in the cab of No. 999.

CHAPTER X

FIRE!

Lemuel Fogg gave a violent start as he received the parcel from
Ralph's hand. His face fell and the color deserted it. The package
unrolled in his grasp, and he let it drop to the ground. Two square
sheets of green colored mica rolled out from the bundle.

"Fairbanks!" spoke the fireman hoarsely, his lips quivering--"you
know?"

"I surmise a great deal," replied Ralph promptly, "and I want to say
nothing more about it."

"But--"

"I have figured it all out. Adams, the station man at Plympton, has a
family. You are going to turn over a leaf, I have decided to take all
the blame for the collision on the siding. I shall see the master
mechanic within an hour and settle everything. I am going to resign my
position with the Great Northern road."

The fireman's jaws dropped at this amazing declaration of the young
railroader. It seemed as if for a moment he was fairly petrified at
the unexpected disclosure of the noble self-sacrifice involved. He did
not have to explain what those two sheets of green mica
signified--Ralph knew too well. Inspired by jealousy, Lemuel Fogg had
slipped them over the white signal lights o