CHAPTER V--THE STOWAWAY
"What's that?" called out Gasper Farrington, hobbling up to the leversand staring at Ralph. "Look here, Mr. Blake," he pursued, his browsdrawn in a mean, savage scowl. "You don't mean to tell me this boy hasanything to do with your switching?"
"He has everything to do with it," announced the master mechanic,looking as if he was disposed to resent the manner and words of theclient he did not like any too well himself.
"Well, then, it won't do!" snarled Farrington, getting excited. "I wanttrustworthy service, I do. I don't propose to run the risk of damageand loss with a road that hires kids for its most important work."
Mr. Blake's lips drew tightly together. Then he remarked:
"Mr. Farrington, the Great Northern knows its business distinctly, weare responsible for any damage caused by the negligence or inability ofour employees. In this instance you may quiet your needless fears. Mr.Fairbanks thoroughly understands his business, and I personallyrecommended him to his present position on account of the cleanestrecord and best practical ability of any junior employee of thecompany."
"H'm. Ha! That so?" mumbled Farrington, taken a good deal aback byBlake's definite expressions of approval, while Ralph felt his heartbeat with pleasure, and blushed hotly. "All right. I suppose you thinkyou know your business. Only--he was a barefooted urchin six monthsago."
"He has earned a good many pairs of shoes since then," observed Blakecrisply.
Ralph said not a word. A spell of silence ensued. Farrington stoodlike some baffled hyena held back from its prey. Ralph quickly anddeftly attended to the call for several switches, with a precision andsystem that even interested the master mechanic.
"It strikes me he'll do," spoke Blake, and Ralph looked grateful as themaster mechanic plainly evidenced a pride in the demonstrated ability ofhis young protege.
All this roused the vengeful, malignant Farrington to the verge ofimpotent fury.
"Ah," he growled, "favor cheap help, I suppose? All right. Though besure to make it your business if any damage comes, that's all. That boyowes me a grudge, and if I know anything of human nature, there will bea wreck on the factory spur before it's been running long."
Ralph felt his fingers tingle. He decided that he had a right to speaknow. He faced about squarely. The mean-eyed magnate quailed at thehonest indignation of his glance.
"Mr. Farrington," said Ralph, "have I ever sought to do you an injury?"
"Yes--no--perhaps not," stammered Farrington, "but you would like to."
"Why?" demanded Ralph definitely.
"Because--because--oh, I know you. I know the whole brood. You smasheda window in my factory, once."
"Accidentally. And paid for it. Is that true?"
Farrington squirmed. He wanted to back out. He found that he could notdomineer in the present instance. More than that, he realized that hedared not. The master mechanic, with a grim smile on his lip, helpedhim out of the dilemma.
"Come, Mr. Farrington," he said, smartly clicking his watch and helpinghim through the trap. "We will miss the superintendent, and you say youwant to close up this business to-day. Careful, take it a rung at atime--you skunk!" he concluded in an undertone to Ralph, giving him asignificant look, and meaning the words for Ralph's ear only.
Ralph felt as if the air was cleared of some violent poison at thedeparture of this miserable apology of a man.
"Faugh! I won't think of him," he soliloquized. "What possiblehappiness in life can such people have? I wonder which is the worst:Mort Bemis, poor and mean, or Gasper Farrington, rich and mean. Whichcarries out what mother has often said: 'Money is not everything.'"
Ralph dismissed his enemies from his mind, whistling cheerily at histasks. He thought a good deal about Mrs. Davis. He was anxious to getthrough work and hurry home, to learn if she had called on his mother,and if she had imparted to Mrs. Fairbanks any explanation of her strangeacquaintance with his dead father, and of her still more strange fear ofGasper Farrington.
From five until seven o'clock the tracks were kept pretty full. Ralphhad a busy time of it. He got through without a delay or a mix-up,however. Jack Knight came up the ladder about eight o'clock.
He looked pleased at the collected, business-like way that Ralph handledthings. He finally remarked:
"Met Blake a bit back, Fairbanks."
"The master mechanic--yes," nodded Ralph.
"Keep it under your hat, now," continued Knight significantly. "Blakewas riled. He said he'd give half a month's salary to wallop one man inStanley Junction, if it wasn't business policy to keep down personalfeelings for the good of the service."
"Who was the man, Mr. Knight?"
"He didn't say, but no friend of yours, it seems. The gist of it is,that this man--I'd like a crack at him myself--offered Blake two hundreddollars to get you shifted onto some other section."
"I seem to come high," smiled Ralph, although he experienced a faintuneasiness at mind, as he clearly comprehended that Gasper Farringtonwas up to some of his old underhanded tricks.
"Well, Blake politely turned down the offer. He said to me, though,that if any treachery or influence got you the jacket in this position,if he had to fire every other man along the line, he'd find a place foryou in the train dispatcher's office at double pay."
"He is a good friend," said Ralph, with emotion--"and you, too, forgiving me the warning, Mr. Knight. Knowing what I do, though, I think Ican take care of myself. I do not believe the man you refer to willsucceed in disturbing me here."
"He won't, if I can help it," muttered old Jack doughtily.
"Hello, there!" hailed Doc Bortree, the nightshift man, intruding hisbulky form and big, jolly face through the trap.
Bortree was a general favorite. He carried an atmosphere of good naturealways along with him.
"Well, kid," he hailed. "Busted anything to-day?"
"Not yet," answered Ralph gayly.
They sent him home forthwith. Ralph felt very happy as he descended theladder from his first real day's service at the switch tower.
His work had gone smoothly, and he loved it. A spice of new interesthad been injected into his personal affairs that day, and his mentalconjectures were not unpleasant ones.
"I wonder if Mrs. Davis saw mother?" he mused, as he crossed the tracks,homeward bound. "Hello, a stowaway!"
Ralph halted, just passing a line of delayed freights. A great thumpingwas going on at the side door of the end car.
"Someone in there, sure," soliloquized Ralph.
"A tramp, I suppose. Stowed in at some point, and side-tracked herethis morning. Out with you, whoever you are!" ordered Ralph, unboltingand sliding back the door.
In the dim light of a distant arc lamp Ralph made out a forlorn figure.The stowaway was shabby and peaked-looking, holding in one hand a pieceof wood with which he had been hammering for release.
His face was so grimed that Ralph took him for a negro at first. Alwayskind-hearted, the young leverman had not hesitated to give the stowawayprompt liberty, and it was in his mind to help him farther if necessary.
The stowaway glanced all about the yards as if fearing the gauntlet ofcuffs and kicks often in vogue for his class. Then, rubbing his eyes toclear the glare of sudden light, he looked sharply at Ralph.
"Hello," he exclaimed, shooting back out of view. "It's Fairbanks!"
"What's that?" cried Ralph, catching the name in wonderment. "Here, whoare you? Do you know me?"
Suddenly as the figure had vanished within the dark car, it nowreappeared. With a spring the stowaway cleared the doorway of the car,landing on the cinders beside Ralph.
"Take that!" he hissed, savagely whirling the club above his head.
Ralph dodged. Mystified and unprepared, however, his usual agility wasat fault.
A heavy blow landed on the side of his head, and Ralph fell flat.
Ralph in the Switch Tower; Or, Clearing the Track Page 5
