After what
happened to-day you won't find Duff daring to do anything too open."
"Excuse me, Sir, but there's a train coming," reported Foreman Rivers,
thrusting his head in at the doorway of the little office building.
"Not a construction train?" Reade asked.
"Can't make it out yet, sir. The whistle was reported a minute ago."
Tom and Harry, chafing a good deal under their enforced idleness while
waiting for materials, hastened outdoors. Soon the train was close
enough to be made out. It consisted of an engine, baggage car and one
private car.
"It's one or more of the road's officials," murmured Harry.
"I hope it's Mr. Ellsworth," replied Reade, as the chums walked briskly
down to the spot where the train would have to halt.
It turned out to be the general manager, a big and capable-looking man
of fifty, with a belt-line just a trifle too large for comfort, who
swung himself to the ground the instant that the train stopped.
"I'm glad you're here, Reade," nodded the general manager, as he caught
sight of his two young engineers.
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