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

by Frank V. Webster

  CHAPTER XI--ON DUTY

  Ralph cut across lots on his way to the roundhouse. He was not one whitashamed to be seen wearing a working cap and carrying a dinner pail andthe bundle under his arm, but cap, pail and overalls were distressinglynew and conspicuous, and he was something like a boy in his first Sundaysuit and wondering if it fitted right, and how the public took it.

  It was too early to meet any of his school friends, but crossing astreet to take the tracks he was hailed volubly.

  Ralph did not halt. His challenger was Grif Farrington, his arm linkedin that of a chum whom Ralph did not know, both smoking cigarettes, andboth showing the rollicking mood of young would-be sports who wished itto be believed they had been making a night of it, and thinking itsmart.

  "What's the uniform, Fairbanks?" cried Grif, affecting a criticalstare--"going fishing? Is that a bait box?"

  "Not a bit of it. It's my dinner pail, and I'm going to work, at theroundhouse."

  "Chump!"

  "Oh, I guess not."

  "Double-distilled! Make more money going on the circuit with the club.Personally guarantee you ten dollars a week. Got scads of money, me andthe old man. Sorry," commented Grif in a solemn manner, as Ralphcontinued on his way unheeding. "Poor, but knows how to bat. Pity tosee a fellow go wrong that way, eh?" he asked his companion.

  Ralph laughed to himself, and braced up proudly. Between idle,dissolute Grif Farrington and himself he could see no room forcomparison.

  Some sleepy loungers were in the dog house, and a fireman was runninghis engine to its stall. Ralph went over to the lame helper he had seenthe day previous.

  "I'm to begin work here to-day, I was told," he said. "Can you start mein?"

  "I'm not the boss."

  "I know that, but couldn't you show me the ropes before the otherscome?"

  "Why, there's an empty locker for your traps," said the man. "When theforeman comes, he'll tell you what your duties are."

  "No harm putting in the time usefully, I suppose?" insinuated Ralph.

  "I suppose not," answered the taciturn helper. He seemed a sickly,spiritless creature, whom misfortune or a naturally crabbed temper hadwarped clear out of gear.

  Ralph stowed his dinner pail in the locker, slipped on overalls andjumper and an old pair of shoes, and placed the fingerless gloves he hadprepared in a convenient pocket.

  The lame helper had disappeared. Ralph noticed that the place neededsweeping. He went to where the brooms stood, selected one, and startedin at his voluntary task.

  He felt he was doing something to improve the looks of things, andworked with a will. He had made the greasy boards look quite spick andsmooth, and was whistling cheerily at his work, when a gruff growlcaused him to look up.

  The foreman, Tim Forgan, confronted him with a lowering, suspiciousbrow.

  "Who told you to do that?" he demanded sharply.

  "Why, nobody," answered Ralph. "I like to keep busy, that's all. Noharm, I hope?"

  "Yes, there is!" snapped Forgan. Ralph surprisedly wondered why thisman seemed determined to be at odds with him. He had not fallen in withvery cheerful or elevating company. Forgan continued to regard him withan evil eye.

  "See here," he said roughly, "I'll have discipline here, and I'll beboss. I'll give you your duties, and if you step over the line, getout. This isn't a playroom, as you'll probably find out before you'vebeen here long."

  Ralph thought it best to maintain silence.

  "You take that box and can yonder, and go to the supply and oil shedsand get some waste and grease. Slump will be here soon, take yourorders from him for to-day."

  Ralph bowed politely and understandingly.

  "I'll tell you another thing," went on Forgan harshly. "Don't you getto knowing too much, or talking about it. I'll have no spying around myaffairs."

  Ralph was astonished. He tried to catch the keynote of the foreman'splaint. Suspicion seemed the incentive of his anger, and yet Ralphcould trace no reason for it.

  An open doorway led from one side of the roundhouse. Ralph picked up aheavy sheet-iron pail and a tin box with a handle. Just then the helpercame into view.

  "Where do I go for oil and waste?" asked Ralph.

  The helper surlily pointed through the doorway. Ralph found himself ina bricked-in passage, slippery with oil, and leading to a narrow yard.On one side was a row of sheds, whose interior comprised bins for boxesfilled with all kinds of metal fittings. On the other side were likesheds, full of cans, pails and barrels. From here some men wereconveying barrow loads of pails and cans filled with oil and grease, andRalph went to an open door.

  Inside was a grimy, greasy fellow marking something on a card tacked tothe wall. Ralph told him who he was, got both receptacles filled, andwent back to the roundhouse.

  He sat down on a bench and watched a fireman go through the finishingtouches on his engine which put it "to sleep." The last whistlesounded, and in through the doorway came Ike Slump.

  The latter was a wiry, elfish fellow, usually very volatile and active.On this especial morning, however, he looked ugly, depressed and wicked.He went over to his locker, threw in his dinner pail, put on a pair ofoveralls, and for the first time observed Ralph.

  "Hello!" he ejaculated, taking a step backward, hunching his shoulders,showing his teeth, and lurching forward much with the pose of a prizefighter descending on an easy victim.

  "Good-morning, Ike," said Ralph pleasantly.

  Ike Slump indulged in a vicious snarl.

  "Morning nothing!" he snapped. "What you doing here?"

  "I'm going to work here."

  "Who says so?"

  "The foreman."

  "When?"

  "Yesterday, and ten minutes ago. In fact, I am waiting to begin underyour directions, as he ordered."

  "Oh, you are!" muttered Ike darkly, and in hissing long-drawn-outaccents. "That's your lay, is it? Well, say, do you see those?"

  Ike glanced keenly about him. Then advancing, he strutted up to Ralph,bunched one set of coarse, dirty knuckles, and rested them squarely onRalph's nose.

  Ralph did not budge for a second or two. When he did, it was withinfinite unconcern and the remark:

  "Yes, I see them, and a little soap and water wouldn't hurt them any."

  "Say! do you want to insult me? say! are you spoiling for a fight?say----"

  "Keep a little farther away, please," suggested Ralph, putting out oneof those superbly-rounded, magnificently-formed arms of his, which sentthe bullying Ike back, stiff and helpless as if he was at the end of aniron rod.

  "Say----" Ike began on his war dance again. "This is too much!" Thenhe subsided as he noticed the foreman cross the roundhouse. "No chancenow, but to-night, after work, we'll settle this!"

  "Just as you like, Ike," assented Ralph accommodatingly--"only, drop itlong enough just now to start me in at my duties, or we'll both have Mr.Forgan in our hair."

  Ike unclinched his fists, but he continued to growl and grumble tohimself.

  "A nice sneak you are!" Ralph made out. "Thought you'd be smart! Gaveaway my tip, didn't you?"

  "See here, Ike, what do you mean?"

  "I mean I told you I was going to leave, and you promised to hang aroundand come on deck when I'd had my pay."

  "The way things turned out," said Ralph, "there was no occasion forthat."

  "You bet there wasn't! You just sneaked the word to Forgandouble-quick, he told the old man, and I got a walloping, locked up onbread and water yesterday, and all my plans scattered about leaving. Youbet I'll cut the job just the same, though!" declared Ike, with avicious snap of his jaws. "Only, you gave me away, and I'm going to payyou off for it."

  "Ike, you are very much mistaken."

  "Yah!"

  "I never mentioned what you told me to any one."

  "Cut it out! We'll settle that to-night. Now you get to work."

  Ralph at last understood the situation, but he saw the futility ofattempting
to convince his obstinate companion of his error.

  Besides, the foreman in the distance was watching him from the corner ofone eye, and Ike thought it best to apply himself to business.

  "You just watch me for an hour or two," he bolted out grudgingly.

  Ralph did not spend a happy forenoon. Ike was sullen, grumpy andsavage.

  He made his helper hold the grease pail when it was unnecessary, tillRalph's arms were stiff, dropping splotches of oil on his shoes. He letthe exhaust deluge him, as if by accident, and refused to engage in anygeneral conversation, nursing his wrath the meantime.

  He knew how to clean up an engine, although, Ralph divined, in the mostslipshod and easiest way that would pass inspection. Ralph was learningsomething, however, and was patient under the slights Ike put upon himfrom time to time.

  About eleven o'clock there was a lull in active work.

  Mr. Ike Slump lounged on the bench, indulging in a smoke and trying tolook important and dangerous, both at once. Then, as if casually, hebegan kneading a fat, juicy ball of waste and grease, poked it under thebench, and said to Ralph:

  "There's two switch engines coming in. You can take one of them, andsee if you know how to handle it."

  "I'll try," announced Ralph.

  "When you come to the bell, give her a good, hard rubbing. They'll giveyou some sand at the supply shed."

  "Sand?" repeated Ralph vaguely.

  "Sure. Dump it in with the grease in the little pail, and don't fail toslap it on thick and plenty."

  Ralph said nothing. He started for the passageway with more thoughtsthan one in his mind. As he shot a quick glance back of him, heobserved Ike leap from the bench, poke out the grease ball, palm it, anddisappear from his range of vision.

  Ralph went to the supply shed and got a can full of sand. Then hestarted back the way he had come.

  As he did so, he observed the foreman turn into the passage in front ofhim.

  Ralph was due to pass by him, for the foreman was pursuing his way at aleisurely gait, but Ralph did nothing of the sort.

  He guessed considerable and anticipated more from the recent suspiciousmovements of his temporary master, and smiled slightly, allowing theforeman to precede him.

  As Tim Forgan stepped through the doorway leading into the roundhouse,that happened which Ralph Fairbanks had foreseen.

  His enemy, lying in wait there to "christen" his new work suit as he hadthreatened, let drive, never doubting but that the approaching footstepswere those of Ralph.

  With a dripping swush the ball of waste and grease cut through the airand took the roundhouse foreman squarely in the face.