“Hush!” he murmured. “I keep my own counsels in business matters when I can do so without betraying the interests of my employers, and when they don't want to be bothered by my personal affairs.”
Shayne gave the engineer a long stare of honest admiration.
“Parker,” he gasped, “you never said a word? You're a—— Here, give me you hand again!”
A half hour later the lumbermen went across the Poquette Carry in a train made up of the engine and the coach—“the first real special train over the road,” Parker said.
Before the young engineer left for his summer vacation, he made a long canoe journey up into the Moxie section, ostensibly on a fishing expedition. He was gone ten days, a longer period than he had predicted to his assistant manager.
When he came down the West Branch one afternoon he helped Joshua Ward to lift a crippled man out of their canoe, and he carefully directed the helpers who carried the unfortunate person to the coach.
“I'm afraid the trip across the carry in a buckboard after the old manner would have been too rough for you, Colonel Ward,” remarked Parker, as the train clanked along under the big trees. “I think I was never more glad to offer modern conveniences to any traveller across this carry. You understand how deep my sincerity is in this, I am positive.”
“I understand everything better than I did, Parker,” returned Colonel Ward, feelingly, turning away wet eyes.