S.B.
& L. open for traffic within charter time."

"He may give all of us university boys the swift run," laughed
another of the draughtsmen.

"I don't believe it," Tom replied. "The added help that you fellows
have given us has enabled us to double our rush forward. I've a
notion that President Newnham is a man of great common sense."

"How are the sick men this morning," inquired Harry. "Is either
one of them fit to talk with the president?"

"Doc Gitney says he won't allow any caller within a thousand feet
of his patients," Tom smiled. "And Doc seems to be a man of his
word."

Both Mr. Thurston and Mr. Blaisdell were now weakly conscious,
in a half-dazed sort of way. Their cases were progressing favorably
on the whole, though it would be weeks ere either would be fit
to take charge of affairs.

The camp had been moved forward, so as to leave the sick men about
a fifth of a mile away from the scenes of camp activity. This
insured quiet for them until they were able to endure noise once more.

"You'll be amazingly busy until the president gets here, I take
it," remarked Bushrod, another college boy, without glancing up
from his drawing table.

"Yes," drawled Tom, with a smile. "When you get time to breathe
look out of the door and see what I'm doing."

Tom walked over to his favorite seat, a reclining camp chair that
he had placed under a broad shade tree. Seating himself, the
cub chief opened a novel that he had borrowed from one of the
college boys.

"It looks lazy," yawned Tom, "but what can I do? I've hustled
the corps, but I'm up with them to the last minute of work they've
done. There is nothing more I can do until they bring me more
work. I might ride out and see how the fellows are coming along
in the field, but I was out there yesterday, and I know all they're
doing, and everyone of their problems. Besides, if I rode afield,
I'd miss Mr. Newnham."

So he opened the book and read for an hour. Then he glanced up
as a stranger on horseback rode into camp.

"Tell me where I can find Mr. Reade," said the new arrival.

"You're looking at hire," Tom replied.

"No, son; I want your father," explained the horseman.

"If you go on horseback it will take you months to reach him,"
Tom explained. "My father lives 'way back east."

"But I want the chief engineer of this outfit," insisted the stranger.

"Then you're at the end of your journey."

"Don't tell me, young man, that you're the