"You think it's as bad as all that?" Mr. Crosby spoke with slow, bland unconcern. Then he looked at the two boys. For one moment his lean gray face lighted with a curious, kindly sparkle. "H'm! Strikes me that their company is mighty lucky to have cub engineers employed on this job."
"'Lucky?' Why, sir? Why?"
"Well, because they're the only kind that any company can depend upon to have nerve enough and grit enough to swing such a forlorn hope of a contract through."
He tramped on, up the landing. Burford threw back his shoulders. The blood flamed to his ears. Roderick's heart suddenly leaped up to its normal altitude and began to pound. His lagging feet swung into a jaunty stride. He met Burford's red, delighted face with a shamefaced grin. That vote of confidence had fairly set them afire.
"At what time had we best start back to Saint Louis?" asked Mr. Locke.
"By leaving camp at nine-thirty you will meet the north-bound limited at Grafton, sir."
"Then, Crosby, we will stay here until that hour. But where shall we dine?"
"It will be a pleasure to Mrs. Burford and myself if you and Mr. Crosby will dine with us at our cabin," interposed Burford eagerly.
The stout potentate graciously accepted, and Burford fled to break the news to Sally Lou.
"Mercy, Sally Lou, how can you manage it!" cried Marian, as Burford popped his head through the window, shouted his news, then hastily departed. "How on earth can you entertain such high mightinesses?"