Part 6 (1/2)
This was rather a queer way of putting the case, thought Ralph, and the fellow blundered on.
”You see, Mr. Ames, that's the man who hired me, found out about my doings down here at Stanley Junction, and he has set me adrift.”
”That is too bad,” observed Ralph.
”No, it ain't, for I deserve better work,” dissented Zeph. ”They say you're dreadfully smart and everybody's friend, and I want you to help me get where I want to get.”
”All right, I am willing to try to a.s.sist you.”
”I don't know exactly which I had better do,” proceeded Zeph--”become a chief of police or a railroad conductor. Of course, the man who speaks quickest and will pay the most money gets me.”
Ralph concealed a smile, for Zeph was entirely in earnest.
”Well, you see,” remarked the young fireman, ”it is somewhat difficult to get just the position you want without some experience.”
”Oh, that's all right,” declared the farmer boy confidently. ”I've thought it all out. I once watched a conductor go through a train.
Why, it's no work at all. I could do it easily. And as to being a detective I've read lots of books on the subject, and I've even got some disguises I made up, in my satchel here.”
”Oh, brought your satchel, too, did you?” observed Ralph.
”Why, yes, I thought maybe you'd house me for a day or two till I closed a contract with somebody.”
The fellow was so simple-minded that Mrs. Fairbanks pitied him, and, observing this, Ralph said:
”You are welcome, Zeph, and I will later talk over with you the prospects of a situation.”
The visitor was soon completely at home. He ate a hearty supper, and, after the meal, took some home-made disguises from his satchel. The poor fellow strutted around proudly as he put these on in turn.
”Old peddler,” he announced, donning a skull cap, a white beard made out of rope, and a big pair of goggles. ”Tramp,” and he put on a ragged coat and a torn cap, and acted out the appearance of a typical tramp quite naturally. There were several other representations, but all so crude and funny that Ralph with difficulty restrained his merriment.
”How will it do?” inquired Zeph, at the conclusion of the performance.
”You have got the elements of the profession in mind,” said Ralph guardedly, ”but there is the practical end of the business to learn.”
Then Ralph seriously and earnestly told his visitor the real facts of the case. He devoted a full hour to correcting Zeph's wrong impressions of detective and railroad work. By the time he got through, Zeph's face was glum.
”Why, if what you say is true,” he remarked dejectedly, ”I'm next to being good for nothing.”
”Oh, no,” said Ralph, ”don't you be discouraged at all. You have the starting point of every ambition--an idea. I myself do not think much of the detective line for one as young as you are. As to railroading, I can tell you one fact.”
”What's that?” interrogated Zeph dreamily.
”You must begin at the bottom of the ladder and take one step at a time--slow steps, sure steps, to reach the top.”
”You're a fireman, aren't you?” asked Zeph, admiringly.
Ralph answered that he was, and this led to his relating to the curious and interested Zeph the story of his career from roundhouse worker and switch tower man to the present position.
”It's fascinating, ain't it?” said Zeph, with a long-drawn breath, when Ralph concluded his recital. ”I reckon I'll give up the detective idea. Can you help me get a position in the roundhouse?”