Ralph of the Roundhouse; Or, Bound to Become a Railroad Man

by Frank V. Webster

  CHAPTER IV--IKE SLUMP'S DINNER PAIL

  Ralph hurried home. His mother had gone temporarily to some neighbors,he judged, for the house was open, and the midday lunch he had purposelyavoided was still spread on the table.

  He ate with a zest, but in a hurry. His mind was working actively, andhe hoped to accomplish results before he had an interview with hismother, and was glad when he got away from the house again withoutmeeting her.

  Ralph went down to the depot. He was not in a communicative mood, anddid not exchange greetings with many friends there. When the 5.11 traincame in there were two packages to deliver. He attended to thesepromptly, and was back at the express shed just as the agent was closingup for the day.

  "All square, Fairbanks?" he inquired, as Ralph handed him the receiptbook.

  "Yes," nodded Ralph. "They paid me. I want to thank you for all thelittle jobs you have thrown in my way, Mr. More. It has helped methrough wonderfully. You haven't anything permanent you could fit meinto, have you?"

  "Eh?" ejaculated the agent, with a critical stare at Ralph. "Why, no.Looking for a regular job, Fairbanks?"

  "I've got to," answered Ralph.

  "Railroading?"

  "Any branch of it."

  "For steady?"

  "Yes, I think it's my line."

  "I think so, too," nodded the agent decisively, "You haven't made loafand play of what little you've done for me. There's no show here,though. I get only forty-five dollars a month, and have to help withthe freight at that, but if you are headed for the presidency----"

  Ralph smiled.

  "Start in the right way, and that is at the bottom of the ladder. Youdon't want office work?"

  "That would take me to general headquarters at Springfield," demurredRalph, "and I don't want to leave mother alone--just yet."

  "I see. There's nothing at the shops down at Acton, where you could goand come home every day, except a trade, and you're not the boy to stopat master mechanic."

  "Oh, come now! Mr. More----"

  "You can't look too far ahead," declared the agent sapiently. "Droppingjollying, though, we narrow down to real service. There's your Startingpoint, my boy, plain, sure and simple, and don't you forget it--anddon't you miss it!"

  He extended his finger down the rails.

  "The roundhouse?" said Ralph, following his indication.

  "The roundhouse, Fairbanks, the first step, and I never knew a genuine,all-around railroad man who didn't make his start in the business in theoil bins."

  "What is the main qualification to recommend a fellow?" asked Ralph.

  "An old suit of clothes, a tough hide, and lots of grit."

  "I think, then, I can come well indorsed," laughed Ralph. "Whom do Isee?"

  "Usually the ambitious father of a future railway president goes throughthe regular application course at headquarters," explained the agent,"but if you want quick action----"

  "I do."

  "See the foreman."

  "Who is he?"

  "Tim Forgan. If he takes you on, and you get to be a fixture, theapplication route is handy later, when you think you deserve promotion."

  "Thank you," said Ralph, and walked away thoughtfully.

  He had five dollars in his pocket that Ned Talcott had given him for hisuniform, and eighty cents in loose change. This made Ralph feel quitefree and easy. He had not a single disturbing thought on his mind atpresent except the broken window at the old factory, and that was easilyfixed up, he told himself.

  So, in quite an elevated frame of mind, Ralph walked down the rails. Theroundhouse was his objective point. Ralph had been there many a timebefore, but only as a visitor.

  Now he was interested in a practical way, and the oil sheds, dog house,turntable and other adjuncts of this favored center of activityfascinated him more than ever.

  He had a nodding acquaintance with some of the firemen and engineers,but was not fortunate enough to meet any of these on the presentoccasion.

  Ralph went along the hard-beaten cinder path, worn by many feet, thatcircled the one-story structure which sheltered the locomotives, andglancing through the high-up open windows caught the railroad flavormore and more as he viewed the stalls holding this and that puffing,dying or stone-dead "iron horse."

  Over the sill of one of these windows there suddenly protruded a black,greasy hand holding a square dinner pail. It came out directly overRalph's head, and halted him.

  Its owner sounded a low whistle and a return whistle quite as low andsuspicious echoed behind Ralph.

  "Take it, and hustle!" followed from beyond the window, and almostmechanically Ralph Fairbanks put up his hand, the handle of the pailslipped into his fingers, and he uttered an ejaculation.

  For the pail was as heavy as if loaded with gold, and bore him quitedoubled down before he got his equilibrium. Then it was jerked from hisgrasp, and a gruff voice said:

  "Hands off! What you meddling for?"

  "Meddling?" retorted Ralph abruptly, and looked the speaker over withsuspicion. He was a ragged, unkempt man of about forty, with a swarthy,vicious face. "I was told to take it, wasn't I?"

  "Hullo! what's up? Who are you? Oh! Fairbanks."

  The speaker was the person who had passed out the dinner pail, and who,apparently aroused by the colloquy outside, had clambered to a bench,and now thrust his head out of the window. He looked startled at first,then directed a quick, meaning glance at the tramp, who disappeared asif by magic. The boy overhead scowled darkly at Ralph, and then thoughtbetter of it, and tried to appear friendly.

  "I give the poor beggar what's left of my dinner for carrying my pailhome, so I won't be bothered with it," he said.

  The speaker's face showed he did not at all believe that keen-wittedRalph Fairbanks accepted this gauzy explanation, after hefting thatpail, but Ralph said nothing.

  "What's up, Fairbanks?" inquired his shock-headed interlocutor at thewindow--"sort of inspecting things?"

  Ralph, preparing to pass on, nodded silently.

  "Trying to break in, eh?"

  "Is there any chance?" inquired Ralph, pausing slightly.

  Ike Slump laughed boisterously. He was a year or two older than Ralph,but had a face prematurely developed with cunning and tobacco, andlooked twenty-five.

  "Yes," he said, "if you're anxious to get boiled, blistered, oiled andblinded twenty times a day, be kicked from platform to pit, and paidjust about enough to buy arnica and sticking plaster!"

  "Bad as that?" interrogated Ralph dubiously.

  "For a fact!"

  "Oh, well--there's something beyond."

  "Beyond what?"

  "When you get out of the oil and cinders, and up into the sand andsteam."

  "Huh! lots of chance. I've been here six months, and I haven't had asmell of firing yet--even second best."

  Ralph again nodded, and again started on. He did not care to haveanything to do with Ike Slump. The latter belonged to the hoodlum gangof Stanley Junction, and whenever his crowd had met the better juvenileelement, there had always been trouble.

  Ike's ferret face worked queerly as he noted Ralph's departure. Heseemed struggling with uneasy emotions, as if one or two troublesomethoughts bothered him.

  "Hold on, Fairbanks!" he called, edging farther over the sill. "I say,that dinner pail----"

  "Oh, I'm not interested in your dinner pail," observed Ralph.

  "Course not--what is there to be curious about? I say, though, was youin earnest about getting a job here?"

  "I must get work somewhere."

  "And it will be railroading?"

  "If I can make it,"

  "You're the kind that wins," acknowledged Ike. "Got any coin, now?"

  "Suppose I have?"

  Ike's weazel-like eyes glowed.

  "Suppose you have? Then I can steer you up against a real investment ofthe A1 class."

  Ralph looked quizzically incredulous.

  "I can," persisted Ike Slump. "You
want to get in here to work, don'tyou? Well, you can't make it."

  "Why can't I?"

  "Without my help--I can give you that help. You give me a dollar, andI'll give you a tip."

  "What kind of a tip?"

  "About a vacancy."

  "Is there going to be one?"

  "There is, I can tell you when, and I can give you first chance on thegame, and deliver the goods."

  Ralph was interested.

  "If you are telling the truth," he said finally, "I'd risk half adollar."

  Ralph took out the coin. A sight of it settled the matter for Ike.

  He reached for it eagerly.

  "All right, I'm the vacancy. You watch around, for soon as I get my payto-morrow I'm going to bolt. It's confidential, though,Fairbanks--you'll remember that?"

  "Oh, sure."

  Ike Slump was a notorious liar, but Ralph believed him in the presentinstance. Anyhow, he felt he was making progress. He planned to be onhand the next day, prepared for the expected vacancy, and incidentallywondered what had made Ike Slump's dinner pail so tremendously heavy,and, also, as to the identity of the trampish individual who haddisappeared with it so abruptly.

  He wandered about half a mile down the tracks where they widened outfrom the main line into the freight yards, and selected a pile of tiesremote from any present activity in the neighborhood to have a quietthink.

  He determined to see the foreman, Tim Forgan, the first thing in themorning, and discover what the outlook was in general. If absolutelyturned down, he would await the announced resignation of Mr. Ike Slump.

  Ralph understood that a green engine wiper in the roundhouse was paidsix dollars a week to commence on if a boy, nine dollars if a man. Hepicked up a torn freight ticket drifting by in the breeze, and fell tofiguring industriously, and the result was pleasant and reassuring.

  Ralph looked up, as with prodigious whistlings a single locomotive cametearing down the rails, took the outer main track, and was lost tosight.

  Not two minutes later a second described the same maneuver. Ralpharose, wondering somewhat.

  Looking down the rails towards the depot, he noticed unusual activity inthe vicinity of the roundhouse.

  A good many hands were gathered at the turntable, as if some excitementwas up. Then a third engine came down the rails rapidly, and Ralphnoticed that the main "out" signal was turned to "clear tracks."

  As the third locomotive passed him, he noticed that the engineerstrained his sight ahead in a tensioned way, and the fireman piled inthe coal for the fullest pressure head of steam.

  Ralph made a start for home, reached a crossroad, and was turning downit when a new shrill series of whistles directed his attention tolocomotive No. 4. It came down the rails in the same remarkable andreckless manner as its recent predecessors.

  "Something's up!" decided Ralph, with an uncontrollable thrill ofinterest and excitement--"I wonder what?"