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world, is against it. I cannot, in all truth, fly in the face of a decision like that.”
    All eyes were now upon Sir Isam-bard whose face was certainly a study worth recording in its rapid changes of expression that reflected the calculations of the mighty brain behind it. First anger, giving way to surprise, followed by the crinkling forehead of cogitation and then the blankness of conclusion ending with a ghost of a smile that came and went as swiftly as a passing shadow.
    “Well said, young Washington; how does it go? You shall not speak ill of me, I am your friend, faithful and just upon you. I detect the quality of your classical education. The burden of decision now rests upon my shoulders alone and I shall not shirk it. I have the feeling that you know more of these matters than you intimate; you have been spoken to or you would not be so bold. But so be it. The tunnel must go through and to have a tunnel we apparently have to have you. I withdraw my ob-jections. You are a good enough en-gineer I must admit and if you fol-low orders and build the tunnel to my design we will build well.”
    He reached out his small, strong hand to take up a glass of water, the strongest spirit he ever allowed him-self, while something like a cheer echoed from all sides. The chair-man’s gavel banged through the uproar, the meeting was concluded, the decision made, the work would go on. Sir Isambard waited stolidly to one side while the members of the Board congratulated Washington and each other and only when the engineer was free did he step to his side.
    “You will share a cab with me.” It was something between a request and a command.
    “My pleasure.”
    They went down in the lift to-gether in silence and the porter opened the door for them and whis-tled for a cab. It was a hansom cab, two wheeled, high, black and sleek, the driver perched above with the reins through his fingers, these same reins leading down to one of the newfangled conversions that were slowly removing the presence of the horse from central London. Here there was no proud, high-stepping equine frame between the shafts, but instead a squat engine of some sort whose black metal, bricklike form rested upon three wheels. The single front wheel swiveled at a tug upon the reins bringing the hansom up smartly to the curb, while a tug on another rein stopped the power so it glided to a halt.
    “An improvement,” Sir Isambard said as they climbed in. “The horse has been the bane of this city, drop-pings, disease, but no more. His replacement is quiet and smoothly electric powered with no noise or noxious exhaust like the first steam models, batteries in the boot—you will have noticed the wires on the shafts. Close that trap because it is private, no eavesdropping we want.”
    This last was addressed to the round and gloomy face of the cabby who peered down through the open-ing from above like a misplaced ruddy moon.
    “Begging your pardon, your honor, but I’ve not heard the destination.‘
    “One hundred and eight Maida Vale.” The slam of the hatch added punctuation to his words and he turned to Washington. “If you had supposed you were returning with me to my home dispel yourself of the idea at once.”
    “I had thought…”
    “You thought wrong. I wished only to talk with you in private. In any case Iris is at some sort of theological tom-foolery at Albert Hall this evening so we can be spared any scenes. She is my only daughter and she obeys me when she must, but she also shares my views of the world. When I explain to her that you have joined with my antago-nists on the Board to deprive me of my full responsibilities, that you now may wish to obtain my position for your-self—”
    “Sir!”
    “Be quiet. This is a lecture, not a discussion. That you have taken the position occupied by one of my agents and have completely turned against me. When I tell her those things she will understand at once why I will bar my house from you in the future