"I have been thinking, Dad," said Steve that evening, while they sat at dinner, "of the railroad story you told me this morning. It was some yarn." His father laughed over the top of his coffee cup.

"It was, wasn't it?" replied he. "And the half was not told then. I was in too much of a hurry to give you an idea of all the trials the poor railroad builders encountered. Did it occur to you, for example, that after the roads to the Pacific coast were laid their managers were confronted by another great difficulty,—the difference in time between the east and the west?"

"I never thought of that," was Steve's answer. "Of course the time must have differed a lot."

"Indeed it did! Every little branch road followed the time peculiar to its own section of the country, and the task of unifying this so that a basis for a common time-table could be adopted was tremendous. A convention of scientists from every section of the country was called to see what could be done about the fifty-three different times in use by the various railroads."

"Fifty-three!" ejaculated Stephen, with a grin. "Why, that was almost as many as Heinz pickles."

"In this case the results of the fifty-three varieties were far more menacing, I am afraid, than those of the fifty-seven," said his father, with a smile, "for travel under such a régime was positively unsafe."

"I can see that it would be. What did they do?"

"Well, after every sort of suggestion had been presented it was decided to divide the country up into four immense parts, separated from one another by imaginary lines running north and south."

"Degrees of longitude?"

"Precisely!" returned Mr. Tolman, gratified that the boy had caught the point so intelligently. "The time of each of these sections jumped fifteen degrees, or one hour, and the railroads lying in each district were obliged to conform to the standard time of their locality. Until this movement went into effect there had been, for example, six so-called standard times to reckon with in going from Boston to Washington."

"I don't see why everybody didn't get smashed up!"

"I don't either; and I fancy the passengers and the railroad people didn't," declared Mr. Tolman. "But with the new state of things the snarl was successfully untangled and the roads began to be operated on a more scientific basis. Then followed gradual improvements in cars which as time went
on were made more comfortable and convenient. The invention of the steam engine and the development of our steel products were the two great factors that made our American railroads possible. With the trans-continental roads to carry materials and the opening up of our coal, iron and copper mines we were at last in a position to make our railroads successful. Then science began to evolve wonderful labor-saving machinery which did away with the slow, primitive methods our pioneer engineers had been obliged to employ. The steam shovel was invented, the traveling crane, the gigantic derrick, the pile driver. The early railroad builders had few if any of these devices and were forced to do by hand the work that machinery could have performed in much less time. When one thinks back it is pathetic to consider the number of lives that were sacrificed which under present-day conditions might have been saved. Yet every great movement goes forward over the dead bodies of unnamed heroes. To an extent this is unavoidable and one of the enigmas of life. If every generation were as wise at the beginning as it is at the end there would be no progress. Nevertheless, when you reflect that ten thousand Chinese and Chilean laborers died while building one of the South American railroads it does make us wonder why we should be the ones to reap the benefits of so much that others sowed, doesn't it?" mused the boy's father.

"Do you mean to say that ten thousand persons
were killed while that railroad was being built?" questioned Stephen, aghast.

"They were not all killed," was the reply. "Many of them died of exposure to cold, and many from the effects of the climate. Epidemics swept away hundreds of lives. This particular railroad was one of the mightiest engineering feats the world had seen for in its path lay the Andes Mountains, and there was no escape from either crossing or tunneling them. The great tunnel that pierces them at a height of 15,645 feet above sea level is one of the marvels of science. In various parts of the world there are other such monuments to man's conquest of the opposing forces of nature. Honeycombing the Alps are spiral tunnels that curve round and round like corkscrews inside the mountains, rising slowly to the peaks and making it possible to reach the heights that must be traversed. Among these marvels is the Simplon Tunnel, famous the world over. The road that crosses the Semmering Pass from Trieste to Vienna is another example of what man can do if he must. By means of a series of covered galleries it makes its way through the mountains that stretch like a wall between Italy and Austria. In the early days this territory with its many ravines and almost impassable heights would have been considered too difficult to cross. The railroad over the Brenner Pass between Innsbruck and Botzen penetrates the mountains of the Tyrol by means of twenty-three tunnels."

"I learned about the St. Gothard tunnel in school," Steve interrupted eagerly.

"Yes, that is yet another of the celebrated ones," his father rejoined. "In fact, there are now so many of these miracles of skilful railroading that we have almost ceased to wonder at them. Railroads thread their way up Mt. Washington, Mt. Rigi, and many another d............