As he was rounding the curve of approach to the valley, Larry saw Brannigan setting the lower switch to let him in on the open side-track. Quick as a flash the way of escape was suggested. Larry flung his cap out of the cab window, and upon reaching the switch he shut off the steam and brought the 717 to a stand.
“Climb up here, Mike, and take your engine,” he called to the little Irishman; “I’ve got to go back after my cap.” And in such simple fashion the dodge was made; for, after the dropped cap was found, Larry took to the woods, and was seen no more until long after the uninvited special had gone on its way back to civilization.
Late that evening, weary from a long tramp over the hills, he stole into camp at Pine Gulch to present himself at the chief’s office and to get what was coming to him.
“What you did this afternoon was a fine thing—a heroic thing, Larry,” said the grave-eyed chief, after a hand-grip which meant more than any words could express, “and I know you did it as a part of the day’s work, as any young fellow should. It was a man’s job, and you did it like a man. But what you did afterward.... Why didn’t you come on in with the car and let those people thank you, Larry?”
Larry’s face hardened.
“I didn’t want any of their thanks,” he said.
“Wait a minute,” interposed the chief soberly. “You want to make a success in life don’t you?”
“Why, yes, sir; that’s what I’m trying to do.”
“Well, being a good engineer, or a good anything, means that you must be a well-rounded man, Larry; approachable on the side of your human relations as well as capable on the technical side. You had a bit of contempt for those people to-day partly because you resented their coming here at a time when we could ill afford to entertain them, but partly, also, because you felt that you were not in their class. Isn’t that so?”