he preceding night. He
could not be mistaken, for there lay his own M. I. P. bag on one of the
lockers. But the car was empty, and its doors were locked. Carefully
observing its number, which was 18, and determined to return to it as
quickly as possible, Rod directed his steps once more in the direction of
the superintendent's office.

The same boy whom he had seen in the morning greeted him with an
aggravating grin, and said: "You're too late. The 'super' was here half an
hour ago; but he's left, and gone out over the road. Perhaps he won't be
back for a week."

"Oh!" exclaimed Rod in such a hopeless tone that even the boy's stony
young heart was touched by it.

"Is it R. R. B.?" he asked, meaning, "Are you on railroad business?"

"Yes," answered Rod, thinking his own initials were meant.

"Then perhaps the private secretary can attend to it," said the boy. "He's
in there." Here he pointed with his thumb towards an inner room, "and I'll
go see."

In a moment he returned, saying, "Yes. He says he'll see you if it's R. R.
B., and you can go right in."

Rodman did as directed, and found himself in a handsomely-furnished
office, which, somewhat to his surprise, was filled with cigarette smoke.
In it, with his back turned toward the door, and apparently busily engaged
in writing, a young man sat at one of the two desks that it contained.

"Well, sir," said this individual, without looking up, in a voice intended
to be severe and business-like, but which was somewhat disguised by a
cigarette held between his teeth, "What can I do for you?"

"I came," answered Rod, hesitatingly, "to see if the superintendent of
this road could give me any employment on it."

The words were not out of his mouth, before the private secretary,
wheeling abruptly about, disclosed the unwelcome face of Snyder Appleby.

"Well, if this isn't a pretty go!" he exclaimed, with a sneer. "So you've
come here looking for work, have you? I'd like to know what you know about
railroad business, anyhow? No, sir; you won't get a job on this road, not
if I can help it, and I rather think I can. The best thing for you to do
is to go back to Euston, and make up with the old gentleman. He's soft
enough to forgive anything, if you're only humble enough. As for the idea
of you trying to be a railroad man, it's simply absurd. We want men, not
boys, in this business."

Too surprised and indignant to reply at once to this cruel speech, and
fearful lest he