Owsley sat up in bed.
"You playing straight with me, Regan?" he asked slowly.
"Sure," said Regan gruffly. "Sure, I am."
Owsley passed his hand two or three times across his eyes.
"I don't quite seem to get the signals right on what's happened," he said. "I guess I've been pretty sick. I kind of had a feeling a minute ago that you were trying to side-track me, but if you say you ain't, I believe you. I ain't going to be side-tracked. When I quit for keeps, I quit in the cab with my boots on—no way else. I'll tell you something, Regan. When I go out, I'm going out with my hand on the throttle, same as it's been for more'n twenty years. And. me and the old 1601, we're going out together—that's the way I want to go when the time comes—and that's the way I'm going. I've known it for a long time."
"How do you mean you've known it for a long time?" Regan swallowed a lump in his throat, as he asked the question—Owsley's mind seemed to be wandering a little.
"I dunno," said Owsley, and his hand crept to his head again. "I dunno—I just know." Then abruptly: "I got to get strong for the old 1601, ain't I? That's right. I'll go up there—only you give me your word I get the 1601 back after the month."
Regan's eyes, from the floor, lifted and met Owsley's steadily.
"You bet, Jake!" he said.
"Give me your hand on it," said Owsley happily.
And Regan gripped the engineer's hand.
Regan left the room a moment or two after that, and
