When he reached the breakfasting pair in three, he stopped again and held out a hand to each.
"Well, well; you two!" he said. "I didn't see you when I went forward. Where did you get on?"
"At the river," replied Mrs. Burton, making room for him in the seat beside her. "Won't you sit down and break bread with us? literally, you know; there isn't anything else to break unless you'll wait for the shell of an egg that is not yet cooked."
"No, thank you; I had my breakfast a good two hours ago. Where have you been? and where are you going?"
"We have been at the passenger meeting in Chicago, and we are on the way home," said the general agent.
"Yes, running a race with the President," cut in Mrs. Burton. "John is dreadfully afraid we sha'n't get to Salt Lake in time to be keel-hauled with the rest of the force."
The young man sat back on the arm of the opposite seat with the light of inquiry in his eyes. "What President?" he asked.
"Vennor, of our company. Didn't you know he was in the Naught-fifty?" said Burton.
"No. They coupled it on just as we were leaving the river, and I thought—I took it for granted that our General Manager was aboard. It's Mr. Cadogan's car."
"I know; but President Vennor always borrows it for his annual trip."