The storm deepens and darkens round the lonely little car and its driver, who stands erect and still with hands on the brake considering his treason to Regan's ambitions and his own. The cause does not have to be searched for.
"Sure, I had promised Craney to manage this railroad till he got back," says Tim Cannon as a matter of course.
He has it in mind to hasten and explain to Regan, but lingers a moment in musing, unusual for him when business is to be done.
"'T was a wise old dame," he says; and recalls what Molly had stated as a matter of fact. "If you promise—then 't is a duty." She had said that; and: "Through storm and hardship and fear you would go—because you promised."
"Sure!" agrees Tim, disgusted that he has not remembered this before making the deal with Regan. "I will explain to him," says Tim, "that I promised Craney."
All of a sudden a vast respect fills him—not reverence, for he has none, but a respect for this wise woman who knew what was in a man so much better than he knew himself.
Then stepping down he plunges into the depths of storm on his way back to Barlow.
The great man laughs at his tale that the job is not done.
"You are a boy of brains, and I am not surprised at the news you bring," he says. "How much is the price risen, you little robber? A hundred? Go," he says, "and finish quickly. I am not the man to haggle, be it five hundred and a job on my railroad to boot."
And as Tim shakes his head: "What now, I ask you?"