absurd. Yet it was not time to make fun of the
man. The latter looked too serious for that.

"Rather a good view to be had from up where you were, eh?" asked Ned
suggestively.

"A good view?" exclaimed the other. "I don't know what you mean!"

"Oh, then you didn't see anything," Ned went on. "Perhaps it's just as
well. Are you fond of fishing?"

"Very. I have--But I forget, I do not know you nor you me. Allow me to
introduce myself. I am Mr. Walter Simpson, and I am here on a visit I
just happened to walk out this way, and, seeing a small stream, thought
I should like to fish. I usually carry lines and hooks, and all I
needed was the pole. I was looking for it when I heard you, and--"

"I felt you!" interrupted Ned, with a short laugh. He told his own
name, but that was all, and seemed about to pass on.

"Are there any locomotive shops around here?" asked Mr. Simpson.

"Locomotive shops?" queried Ned. "None that I know of. Why?"

"Well, I heard heavy machinery being used down there;" and he waved his
hand toward Tom's shops, "and I thought--"

"Oh, you mean Shopton!" exclaimed Ned. "That's the Swift plant. No,
they don't make locomotives, though they could if they wanted to, for
they turn out airships, submarines, tunnel diggers, and I don't know
what."

"Do they make munitions there--for the Allies?" asked Mr. Simpson, and
there was an eager look on his face.

"No, I don't believe so," Ned answered; "though, in fact, I don't know
enough of the place to be in a position to give you any information
about it," he told the man, not deeming it wise to go into particulars.

Perhaps the man felt this, as he did not press for an answer.

The two stood looking at one another for some little time, and then the
man, with a bow that had in it something of insolence, as well as
politeness, turned and went down the path up which Ned had come.

The young bank clerk waited a little while, and then turned his
attention to the tree which seemed to have suddenly assumed an
importance altogether out of proportion to its size.

"Well, since I'm here I'll have a look up that tree," decided Ned.

Favoring his bruised hand, Ned essayed the ascent of the tree more
successfully this time. As he rose up among the branches he found he
could look down directly into the yard with the high fence about it. He
Could see only a portion, good as his vantage point was, and that
portion had in it a few workmen--nothing else.

"No ele