chief engineer," protested
the horseman.

"No," Tom admitted modestly. "I'm only the acting chief. Hold
on. If you think I'm not responsible for that statement you might
ask any of the fellows over in the headquarters tent."

At that moment Harry Hazelton thrust his head out through the
doorway.

"Young man," hailed the stranger, "I want to find the chief."

"Reach out your hand, and you can touch him on the shoulder,"
answered Hazelton, and turned back.

"I know I don't look entirely trustworthy," grinned Tom, "but
I've been telling you the truth."

"Then, perhaps," continued the stranger, looking keenly at the
cub engineer, "you'll know why I'm here. I'm Dave Fulsbee."

"You're mighty welcome, then," cried Tom, reaching out his hand.
"I've been wondering where you were."

"I came as soon as I could get the wagon-load of equipment together,"
grinned Fulsbee.

"Where is the wagon?"

"Coming along up the trail. It will be here in about twenty minutes."

"I'll be glad to see your equipment, and to set you at work as
soon as we're ready," Reade went on. "Harry, show Mr. Fulsbee
the tent we've set aside for himself and his helper."

"Who is that party?" questioned Watson, as Hazelton started off
with the newcomer in tow.

"Oh, just a new expert that we're taking on," Tom drawled.

Ten minutes later all other thoughts were driven from Reade's
mind. A mountain wagon was sighted coming up the trail, drawn
by a pair of grays. The stout gentleman, on the rear seat, dressed
in the latest fashion, even to his highly polished shoes, must
surely be all the way from Broadway.

"Mr. Newnham?" queried Tom, advancing to the wagon as it halted.

"Yes; is Mr. Reade here?"

"You're speaking to him, sir," smiled the cub engineer.

Mr. Newnham took a quick look, readjusted his spectacles, and
looked once more. Tom bore the scrutiny calmly.

"I expected to find a very young man here, Mr. Reade, but you're
considerably younger than I had expected. Yet Howe, in charge
of the construction corps, tells me that you've been hustling
matters at this field survey end. How are you, Reade?"

Mr. Newnham descended from the wagon, at once holding out his hand.

"I'm very comfortable, thank you, sir," Tom smiled.

"You're dreadfully busy, I'm sure," continued the president of
the S.B. & L. "In fact, Reade, I feel almost guilty in coming
here and taking up your time when you've such a drive on. Don't
let me detai