“Dan Nolan’s loose,” repeated Jack, as though his companion had not heard, and then walked on in silence.

Allan’s heart gave a sickening leap—not in the least of fear, for he had never been afraid of Nolan, but of anxiety for the property of the company. He knew Nolan’s revengeful and vindictive nature; he knew that he would never rest content until he had avenged himself upon the company for sending him to the penitentiary. For himself he did not fear; Nolan, who was a coward at heart, a lazy, overgrown bully, had never dared attack him openly. He recalled how the thought of Nolan had oppressed him that morning. There was something prophetic in it!

“But I don’t understand,” he said, at last. “I thought Nolan had been sent to the penitentiary for three years.”

“So he was,” growled Jack, "an’ he’d got a stiffer dose than that if he hadn’t been the coward an’ traitor he was. You know he turned State’s ? 99 ? evidence an’ testified agin his pals, an’ so managed t’ git hisself off with three year, while all th’ others got ten. I’d hate t’ be in Nolan’s shoes when they do git out. They’ll certainly never rest till they git even with him."

“But how did he get out?” asked Allan, again. “He hasn’t been in the penitentiary more than six months.”

“Only five months,” corrected Jack, grimly. “Purty justice I call that! It’s enough t’ disgust an honest man! What’s th’ use o’ being honest, anyway, if that’s all they do to a dirty scoundrel like Dan Nolan? No wonder they’s lynchin’ parties every now an’ then!”

“Jack,” laughed Allan, “you don’t believe a word you’re saying, and you know it!”

“Well, anyway,” said Jack, “it makes me fair sick at heart t’ think of it! Here’s this cowardly blackguard loose agin, an’ y’ know he’s got it in fer ye!”

“Oh, I can take care of myself,” said Allan, easily.

“In a fair fight ye could,” agreed Jack. “But ye know as well as I do that he won’t fight fair. He’ll be tryin’ some of his cowardly tricks on ye, jest like he did afore. I won’t be able t’ sleep fer worritin’ about it!”

“Oh, nonsense, Jack! You don’t need to worry, at all. I’ll keep my eyes open. But you haven’t told me yet how he got out. Was he pardoned?”

? 100 ?

“Oh, wuss’n that!” answered Jack, disgustedly. “They went an’ put him on th’ pay-roll!”

“On the pay-roll!” repeated Allan. “Oh, you mean he’s been parolled?”

“Yes; what’s that mean?”

“It means that he’s released during good behaviour. As soon as he does anything wrong he’ll be whisked back into the penitentiary, and won’t get out again till his term’s out.”

“Much good that’ll do,” commented Jack, “arter th’ mischief’s done! That’s like lockin’ th’ stable door arter th’ hoss is stole!”

“He’s probably promised to be good.”

“He’d promise anything,” said Jack; “why, he’d sell his soul t’ th’ devil, t’ git another chance at ye. Ye must look out fer yourself, me boy.”

“I will,” promised Allan, with a laugh, as he swung himself aboard the train. “Don’t worry.”

But when the train had started and he was alone with his thoughts, without the fear of Jack’s sharp eyes seeing what was passing in his mind, the smile faded from his lips. After all, seek to evade it as he might, there was some danger. Nolan was vindictive—he would seek revenge first of all, unless his nature had been completely changed, which was scarcely to be expected. If he would fight fairly, there was very little to apprehend from him; but Allan knew perfectly well that he would not do this. He would work in the dark, undoubtedly; he would ? 101 ? watch for a chance to injure his enemy without running any risk himself.

So it was in a decidedly serious frame of mind that Allan left the train at Byers Junction and entered the little frame building which was his office. Nevins, the day man, grunted the gruffest kind of a greeting, caught up his coat and lunch-basket, and hastened away, while Allan sat down, looked over the orders, and familiarized himself with the condition of things. There was an order or two to acknowledge, and a report to make, and half an hour passed almost before he knew it.

As he leaned back in his chair to rest a moment, he happened to glance through the window, and was surprised to see Nevins walking up and down the track, at a little distance, as though waiting for some one. He still had his lunch-basket in his hand, and evidently had not yet gone home to supper. Allan watched him, with a feeling of uneasiness which he could not explain. At last, he saw Nevins make an impatient gesture, and after looking up and down the track again, walk rapidly away in the direction of the little village where he boarded.

First Ninety-eight pulled in at that moment and stopped for orders; orders for an extra west had to be received, and a train on the connecting road had to be passed on its way, and by the time he was at leisure again he had forgotten all about Nevins. He got out his copy of the book of rules, ? 102 ? and looked through it to be sure that he was familiar with the rules which governed each emergency.

The book opened with a “General Notice,” to the effect that “to enter or remain in the service is an assurance of willingness t............