at was to come
was in any wise his portion, he did not show it. There was not a
quiver in the steel-plate hand in which he wrote the super's letters,
not even an inadvertent blur on the tissue pages of the book in which
he copied them. Only, perhaps, he worked a little more slowly--his
work wasn't done when the shop whistle blew and he came back to the
office after supper. It was close on ten minutes after eight when he
finally finished, and went into the despatcher's room with the sheaf of
official telegrams to go East during the night at odd moments when the
wires were light.

"Here's the super's stuff," he said, laying the papers on the
despatcher's desk.

"All right," said Spence, who was sitting in on the early trick.
"How's P. Walton to-night?"

"Pretty fair," said P. Walton, with a smile. "How's everything moving?"

"Slick as clockwork," Spence answered. "Everything on the dot. I'll
get some of that stuff off for you now."

"Good," said P. Walton, moving toward the door. "Good-night, Spence."

"'Night, old man," rejoined Spence, and picking up the first of the
super's telegrams began to rattle a call on his key like the tattoo of
a snare drum.

P. Walton, in possession of the information he sought--that Extra No.
34 was on time--descended the stairs to the platform, and started
uptown.

"I think," he mused, as he went along, "that about as good a place as
any for me when this thing breaks will be sitting with Nulty."

P. Walton noticed the light burning in Nulty's bedroom window as he
reached the house; and, it being a warm night, found the front door
wide open. He stepped into the hall, and from there into the bedroom.
Mrs. Nulty was sitting in a rocking-chair beside the lamp, mending away
busily at a pair of Nulty's overalls--but there wasn't anybody else in
the room.

"Hello!" said P. Walton cheerily. "Where's the sick man?"

"Why, didn't you know?" said Mrs. Nulty a little anxiously, as she laid
aside her work and rose from her chair. "The express company sent word
this morning that if he was able they particularly wanted to have him
make the run through the mountains to-night on Extra Number
Thirty-four--I think there was some special shipment of money. He
wasn't at all fit to go, and I tried to keep him home, but he wouldn't
listen to me. He went up to Elk River this morning to meet Thirty-four
and come back on it. I've been worrying all day about him."

P. Walton's eyes rested