"Congress or no Congress, you will never rebuild a foot of this
railroad," thundered Warburton. He stood there glaring, final, assured.
"For the sake of your--your government connections, let us say--let well
enough alone."

"This upstart boy of an engineer!" burst out Lee, in furious resentment.
"Who is he? How dare he accuse or report against me?"

"Mr. Lee, your name has never been mentioned by him," replied the
director.

Lee struggled for self-control. "But, Warburton, it's preposterous!"
he protested. "This wild boy--the associate of desperadoes--his
report, whatever it is--absurd! Absurd as opposed to my position! A cub
surveyor--slick with tongue and figures--to be thrown in my face! It's
outrageous! I'll have him--"

Warburton held up a hand and impelled Lee to silence. In that gesture
Neale read what stirred him to his soul. It was coming. He saw it again
in General Lodge's fleeting, rare smile. He held his breath. The old
pang throbbed in his breast.

"Lee, pray let me enlighten you and Senator Dunn," said Warburton,
sonorously, "and terminate this awkward interview... When the last
spike is driven out here--presently--Mr. Neale will be chief engineer of
maintenance of way of the Union Pacific Railroad."

24

So for Neale the wonderful dream had come to pass, and but for the
memory that made all hours of life bitter his cup of joy would have been
full.

He made his headquarters in Benton and spent his days riding east or
west over the line, taking up the great responsibility he had long
trained for--the maintaining of the perfect condition of the railroad.

Toward the end of that month Neale was summoned to Omaha.

The message had been signed Warburton. Upon arriving at the terminus of
the road Neale found a marvelous change even in the short time since he
had been there. Omaha had become a city. It developed that Warburton had
been called back to New York, leaving word for Neale to wait for orders.

Neale availed himself of this period to acquaint himself with the men
whom he would deal with in the future. Among them, and in the roar
of the railroad shops and the bustle of the city, he lost, perhaps
temporarily, that haunting sense of pain and gloom. Despite himself the
deference shown him was flattering, and his old habit of making friends
reasserted itself. His place was assured now. There were rumors in the
air of branch lines for the Union Pacific. He was consulted for advice,
impor