threw away his cigar with an action that
suggested a sudden vitalizing of a weary but indomitable spirit.

"Did you find the snag we've struck?" asked Baxter, slowly.

"No," replied Neale.

"Aha! Well, I'll have to take you out tomorrow and show you."

The chief's keen eyes began to shine as they studied Neale.

"No, couldn't find any snag, Baxter, old boy... and the reason is
because there's no snag to find."

Baxter stared and his worn face reddened. "Boy, somethin's gone to your
head," he retorted.

"Wal, I should smile, as Larry would say."

Baxter pounded the table. "Neale, it's no smiling matter," he said
harshly. "You come back here, your eye and mind--fresh, but even so, it
can't be you make light of this difficulty. You can't--you can't--"

"But I do!" cried Neale, his manner subtly changing.

Baxter got up. His shaking hand rustled a paper he held. "I know you--of
old. You've tormented me often. You're a boy... But here--this--this
thing has stumped me. I've had no one to help... and I'm getting
old--this damned railroad has made me old. If--if you saw a way
out--tell me--"

Baxter faltered. Indeed he had aged. Neale saw the growth of the great
railroad with its problems in the face and voice of the old engineer.

"Listen," said Neale, swiftly. "A half-mile down from where you struck
your snag we'll change the course of that stream... We'll change the
line--set a compound curve by intersections--and we'll get much less
than a ninety-foot grade to the mile."

Then he turned to General Lodge. "Chief, Baxter had so many problems--so
much on his mind--that he couldn't think... The work will go on
tomorrow."

"But, Neale, you went out without any instrument," protested the chief.

"I didn't need one."

"Son, are you sure? This has been a stumper. What you say--seems too
good--too--"

"Am I sure?" cried Neale, gaily. "Look at Baxter's face!"

Indeed, one look at the old engineer was confirmation enough.

Neale was made much of that night. The chief and his engineers, the
officers and their wives, all vied with one another in their efforts
to celebrate Neale's return to work. The dinner party was merry, yet
earnest, too. Baxter made a speech, his fine old face alight with
gladness as he extolled youth and genius and the inspiring power of
bright eyes. Neale had to answer. His voice was deep and full as he said
that Providence had returned him to his work and to a happiness he
had believed los