"I don't believe there is going to be any."
"Don't you? I wish I might share your incredulity—with reason."
Miss Doty and the others were talking about the curious blending of the moonlight with the masthead electrics, and the two in the shadowed corner of the deep platform were temporarily ignored. Miss Brewster took advantage of the momentary isolation to say, "Confess that you were a little bit over-wrought this afternoon when you wanted to send us away: weren't you?"
"I only hope that the outcome will prove that I was," he rejoined patiently.
"You still believe there will be trouble?"
"Yes."
"Then I'm afraid you are still overwrought," she countered lightly. "Why, the very atmosphere of this beautiful night breathes peace."
Before he could reply, a man came up to the platform railing, touched his cap, and said, "Is Mr. Lidgerwood here?"
Lidgerwood answered in person, crossing to the railing to hear Judson's latest report, which was given in hoarse whispers. Miss Brewster could distinguish no word of it, but she heard Lidgerwood's reply. "Tell Benson and Dawson, and say that the engine I ordered had better be sent up at once."
When Lidgerwood had resumed his chair he was promptly put upon the question rack of Miss Eleanor's curiosity.