They brought with them a great lot of tools, and soon a flat car with a hoisting machine was run out of a shed, and they were off.
By this time it was raining in torrents, and the station platform was deserted. Not caring to get wet, I again took my seat in the car, and presently fell asleep.
When I awoke I found it was six o'clock. The rain still fell steadily, without signs of abating.
I was decidedly hungry, and buttoning my coat up tightly about my neck, I sallied forth in search of a restaurant.
I found one within a block of the depot, and entering, I called for some coffee and muffins—first, however, assuring myself that my train was not likely to leave for fully an hour.
While busy with what the waiter had brought, I saw Mr. Allen Price enter. Luckily the table I sat at was full, and he was compelled to take a seat some distance from me.
"Good morning, my young friend," said he, as he stopped for an instant in front of me.
I was surprised at his pleasant manner. He acted as if nothing had ever happened to bring up a coolness between us.
"Good morning," I replied briefly.
"Terrible rain, this, isn't it?"