But to-night, after firing up for the last time and blowing the whistle, Joe Cuttle did not go directly home.

Instead, he went out into the yard and sauntered out toward the further end of the extensive works where the foundry was located.

Larry, still distrustful, noticed this, and he wished then that he had mentioned what he had seen that noon to the superintendent.

He stood in the doorway and furtively watched Joe until the latter disappeared beyond an angle of the building.  Then he went in and meditatively drew the water from the glass gauges, tested the safety valve, wiped off the engine and finally locked the door of the engine-room.

His work was done for the day.  It yet lacked ten minutes of the half-hour, which would bring the night watchman, and he waited with his feeling of uneasiness growing stronger every moment until the time was up; and the watchman had not come.

“He is usually ahead of time, instead of behindhand,” Larry thought.

He went to the door, and nearly collided with some one who was on the point of entering at the same time.

“How d’ do, Larry?” was the off-hand salutation of the newcomer, who was a short, stout man whom the boy recognized as Gideon Stark, a former watchman in the works, who had of late been employed as a helper in the moulding department.

“Where is Jake?” Larry asked.

“Sick,” was the sententious reply.

“And you’re going to take his place to-night?”

“I’m going to try.”

“Does Mr. Gardner know about it?”

“I suppose so.  Jake said he sent him word.”

“All right, then, if he knows.  Only,” and Larry looked at the man, sharply, “you know the engineer can’t leave till the watchman comes, and you’re not the watchman unless you’re regularly hired.”

The short man scowled, and then, as though suddenly thinking a frown was not the best passport for gaining good-will, he smiled, at the same time taking out the big bunch of keys which the watchman usually carried.

“I couldn’t get them from anybody but Jake, could I?”

“I suppose not.”

“Well, if your father has a right to send you to take his place when he can’t come, I think Jake can hire me to take his place when he’s sick.  That’s about the size of it, my boy.  But if you ain’t satisfied, you better go up and see the super.  You know the kind of row he makes when the hands follow him home to ask questions.  He always says, if a man can’t think of enough to pester him about in the ten or twelve hours he’s around the works, they needn’t try to follow him home with their complaints.”

“I will go to supper, Gid,” said Larry, quietly.

But the man followed him to the door.

“Your father sick?” he asked.

“No.”

“Gone away?”

“Yes.”

“Coming back in the morning?”

“I don’t know.”