And Mr. Brockway knew his rôle and played it well—if, indeed, it were a rôle, which she very much doubted. Old school manners are not to be put on and off like a garment, nor is sincerity to be aped as a fad. Just here reflection became speculative. What had become of Mr. Brockway since their "Mormon day"? Had he gone on with his school-mistresses and ended by marrying one of them? There was something repellent in the thought of his marrying any one, but when reason demanded a reason, Gertrude's father had joined her.
"I hope we shall be able to have dinner in the car," the President said, drawing up a chair. "I stumbled upon a young mechanic when I went forward to inquire about the eating-station, and he agreed to repair the range this afternoon."
"How fortunate!"
"Yes," the President rejoined; and then he began to debate with himself as to the strict truth of the affirmative, and the conversation languished.
Meanwhile, Brockway had hastened out to the engine at the cry of "All aboard!" The 828 was sobbing for the start when he climbed to the foot-board, and the engineer, who knew him, grinned knavishly.
"Better get you some overclothes if you're goin' to ride up here," he suggested.
"I'm not going to stay. Lend me a pair of overalls, and a jumper, and a pair of pipe-tongs, and a hammer, and a few other things, will you?"
"Sure thing," said the man at the throttle. "What's up? One o' your tourists broke a side-rod?"
Brockway laughed and dropped easily into the technical figure of speech.
"No; crown-sheet's down in the Naught-fifty's cook-stove, and I'm going to jack it up."