It was not till the next night though that a tall, thinnish chap, without visible reasons for alighting, got off Fifty-nine and walked tentatively down the platform. At the ticket office he asked for the assistant superintendent.
"Out there on the platform talking to the conductor."
The thin fellow emerged and headed for Callahan. Callahan noticed only his light, springy amble and his hatchet face.
"Mr. Callahan?"
"Yes."
"Bucks sent me up—to take the yard."
"What's your name?"
"Shockley."
"Step upstairs. I'll be up in a minute."
Shockley walked back into the depot but he left the copper-haired assistant superintendent uncertain as to whether it was really over; whether Shockley had actually arrived or not. As Callahan studied the claimant's inoffensive appearance, walking away, he rather thought it couldn't be over, or that Bucks was mistaken; but Bucks never made a mistake.