in the
certainty that but for him the track would not yet have been spiked
there. Construction was climbing fast into the hills. He wondered when
and where would be the long-looked-for meeting of the rails connecting
East with West. Word had drifted over the mountains that the Pacific
division of the construction was already in Utah.

At the camp Colonel Dillon offered Neale an escort of troopers out to
Number Ten, but Neale decided he could make better time alone. There had
been no late sign of the Indians in that locality and he knew both the
road and the trail.

Early next morning, mounted on a fast horse, he set out. It was a
melancholy ride. Several times he had been over that ground, once
traveling west with Larry, full of ardor and joy at the prospect of soon
seeing Allie Lee, and again on the return, in despair at the loss of
her.

He rode the twenty miles in three hours. The camp of dirty tents was
clustered in a hot valley surrounded by hills sparsely fringed with
trees. Neale noted the timber as a lucky augury to his enterprise. It
was an idle camp full of lolling laborers.

As Neale dismounted a Mexican came forward.

"Look after the horse," said Neale, and, taking his luggage, he made for
a big tent with a fly extended in front. Several men sat on camp-chairs
round a table. One of them got up and stepped out.

"Where's Blake and Coffee?" inquired Neale.

"I'm Blake," was the reply, "and there's Coffee. Are you Mr. Neale?"

"Yes."

"Coffee, here's our new boss," called Blake as he took part of Neale's
baggage.

Coffee appeared to be a sunburnt, middle-aged man, rather bluff and
hearty in his greeting. The younger engineer, Blake, was a tanned,
thin-faced individual, with a shifty gaze and constrained manner. The
third fellow they introduced as a lineman named Somers. Neale had not
anticipated a cordial reception and felt disposed to be generous.

"Have you got quarters for me here?" he inquired.

"Sure. There's lots of room and a cot," replied Coffee.

They carried Neale's effects inside the tent. It was large and spare,
containing table and lamp, boxes for seats, several cots, and bags.

"It's hot. Got any drinking-water?" asked Neale, taking off his coat.
Next he opened his bag to take things out, then drank thirstily of the
water offered him. He did not care much for this part of his new task.
These engineers might be sincere and competent, but he had been sent
on to judge their work, a