The postmaster's eyes were searching Parker's face for signal of approbation.
The engineer went to him and shook his hand with hearty emphasis.
"You've got a level head, Mr. Postmaster," he said, delightedly. "We'll start exactly where we left off and so far as I am concerned the place will never get a bad name from me. In return for your frankness and your service to me, I'll give you a hint as to what happened to Colonel Ward. I know you won't abuse my confidence."
When he had finished, the postmaster said earnestly, "Mr. Parker, however much old Gid Ward owes you, you owe Josh Ward a good deal more. He ain't a man to dun for his pay. But if he ever does ask you to square the account you won't be the man I take you for if you don't settle. If you feel that you owe me anything for the little service I've done you and your bus'ness, just take and add it to the Josh Ward account. Of all the men on earth I pity that man the most."
There were tears in Dodge's eyes when he stumbled down the tavern stairs.
One cheerful moment for Parker had been when the postmaster informed him of Sunkhaze's equilibrium in the matter of news-monging But a more cheerful moment was when Mank, his foreman, standing with him on the ice above the submerged Swogon told him that a sandbar made out into the lake at that point and that the locomotive was probably lodged on the bar, only a little way below the surface.
When they had sawed the ice and sounded they found this to be true. As soon as a broad square of ice had been removed they saw her, all her outlines clear against the white sand. The sunken sleds were equally in evidence. It was not a diver's job, then, as Parker, in his worryings, had feared. On the thick ice surrounding the whole there was solid foothold for the raising apparatus and Parker's crew set at work with good cheer.
It was a cold, wet and tedious job, the grappling and the raising, but his derricks were strong and his rigging plentiful. Moreover, the water was not deep.
All the material that could not be recovered by the grapples was duplicated by means of quick replies to wired orders, and the work of transportation across the lake was successfully completed.
It was well into a warm May, and his men for the last week had been moving soil and building culverts before the case of Col. Gideon Ward was brought to Parker's attention in a manner requiring action. One evening just after dusk his foreman scratched on the flap of the engineer's tent, in which he was now living at Poquette.