on his way to the roundhouse to report for duty. His brisk step showed that he was limited as to time, but he paused for a moment.
"You got there, Fairbanks, didn't you?" he commented heartily. "Good. I knew you would, but say, what about this mix-up on the signals at Plympton?"
"Oh, that wasn't much," declared Ralph.
"Enough to put the master mechanic on his mettle," objected the veteran engineer. "He's going to call all hands on the carpet. Had me in yesterday afternoon. He showed me your conductor's report wired from Bridgeport. It throws all the blame on Adams, the new station man at Plympton. The conductor declares it was all his fault—'color blind,' see? Master mechanic had Adams down there yesterday."
"Surely no action is taken yet?" inquired Ralph anxiously.
"No, but I fancy Adams will go. It's a plain case, I think. Your signals were special and clear right of way, that's sure. Danforth is ready to swear to that. Adams quite as positively swears that the green signals on the locomotive were set on a call for the siding. He broke down and cried like a child when it was hinted that a discharge from the service was likely."
