Part 16 (1/2)
”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 of attempting to convince his obstinate companion of his error.
Besides, the foreman in the distance was watching him from the corner of one 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 and savage.
He made his helper hold the grease pail when it was unnecessary, till Ralph's arms were stiff, dropping splotches of oil on his shoes. He let the exhaust deluge him, as if by accident, and refused to engage in any general conversation, nursing his wrath the meantime.
He knew how to clean up an engine, although, Ralph divined, in the most slipshod and easiest way that would pa.s.s inspection. Ralph was learning something, however, and was patient under the slights Ike put upon him from 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 to look important and dangerous, both at once. Then, as if casually, he began kneading a fat, juicy ball of waste and grease, poked it under the bench, and said to Ralph:
”There's two switch engines coming in. You can take one of them, and see 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 give you 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 to slap it on thick and plenty.”
Ralph said nothing. He started for the pa.s.sageway with more thoughts than one in his mind. As he shot a quick glance back of him, he observed Ike leap from the bench, poke out the grease ball, palm it, and disappear from his range of vision.
Ralph went to the supply shed and got a can full of sand. Then he started back the way he had come.
As he did so, he observed the foreman turn into the pa.s.sage in front of him.
Ralph was due to pa.s.s by him, for the foreman was pursuing his way at a leisurely gait, but Ralph did nothing of the sort.
He guessed considerable and antic.i.p.ated more from the recent suspicious movements of his temporary master, and smiled slightly, allowing the foreman 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 had threatened, let drive, never doubting but that the approaching footsteps were those of Ralph.
With a dripping swush the ball of waste and grease cut through the air and took the roundhouse foreman squarely in the face.