Carstairs felt a singular satisfaction that he had gauged the trend of his luck so accurately. He went down to the works to see Thompson and get a day off. Thompson looked rather disappointed. "You'll get that alright," he said, "but I'm rather sorry. I've had an inquiry about Smith here (he held up a letter), there'll probably be a vacancy soon. I suppose you don't think it worth while waiting?"
Carstairs stood for a few minutes in deep thought. "I think it would be rather stemming the tide of my luck, wouldn't it?" he remarked, quite seriously.
Thompson smiled. "Alright. I'll write to the chief at Southville telling him I have had reason to considerably improve my opinion of you."
A slightly increased colour mantled on Carstairs' cheek. "Thanks! if you will," he said. Next day he went to Southville. He saw the chief and was appointed there and then. He spent the rest of the day with Darwen who showed a somewhat un-English effusion in his greeting. They strolled round the pleasant southern town together.
"This is civilization," Darwen said.
"That's so," Carstairs agreed.
In a week he left the grimy, little midland town, but before he went, there was a solemn gathering of the shift engineers and switchboard attendants in the drawing office for the purpose of presenting him with a standard work on electricity (Darwen had had a silver cigarette case). Smith made the presentation. In a somewhat nervous little speech, he expressed regret at Carstairs' departure, and rosy hopes of his future, with a few glowing tributes to his personal qualities. Carstairs thanked them very solemnly, and deflected the glowing tributes on to the assembled company. These little gatherings were a recognized institution in Central Stations; about every three or four months there would be a "whip round" of half a crown or so each to present some man who had been there about six months with a small token of esteem on the occasion of his departure to a better job. Some men have quite a collection of pipes, cigarette cases, walking sticks, slide rules, books, etc.
Just before he left the works for the last time, Foulkes, the stoker, accosted him.
"There was some gipsy-looking bloke asking if a man called Carstairs worked here, yesterday," he said.
"Did he say he wanted to see me?"