Ralph of the Roundhouse Part 33

"Yes, sir," a.s.sented Ralph.

"Name?"

"Fairbanks--Ralph Fairbanks."

"What--eh? Oh, yes! Ralph Fairbanks."

The young railroader regarded the inspector with positive astonishment as he uttered that sharp startling "What." He was manifestly roused up.

Quickly, however, Bardon recovered himself, looked Ralph over with a decided show of interest, seemed secretly thinking of something, and then, fingering over the pages of his memorandum book, appeared looking for a notation, found it apparently, glanced again at Ralph in a sinister way, and said calmly:

"Very well, get your time."

"What is that, sir?" exclaimed Ralph, startled anew.

"Laid off, pending an investigation," added Bardon.

Ralph's heart beat a trifle unsteadily, but he straightened up with decision.

"Does that mean, Mr. Bardon, that I am not to go back to work?"

"You can understand what you like," snapped the inspector, seemingly glad to show his authority to this disrespectful crowd, and appearing to bear some personal spite against Ralph in particular, "only you are suspended until this matter is looked into."

Bardon turned to resume his way with the depot master, who looked bored and uneasy.

"Hold on!" thundered a tremendous ba.s.s voice. "That don't work."

A greasy paw closed around the immaculate coat-sleeve of the inspector, who turned with a brow as dark as a thunder cloud.

"Drop my arm--what do you mean!" breathed Bardon, with a glance at the husky freight engineer as if he would annihilate him.

"Just this, Mr. Inspector Bardon," said the engineer, with a never-quailing eye and the zest of extreme satisfaction in words and bearing, "you can't lay anybody off."

"I represent the Great Northern Railway Company," announced Bardon grandiloquently.

"Read your rules, then," retorted the engineer, "and see how far it will sustain you in exceeding your duties. I tell you they won't uphold you, and I speak with the voice of eighty-six thousand men and their auxiliaries behind me--the International Brotherhood of Locomotive Engineers."

Bardon stood nonplussed. He fidgeted and turned ghastly with vexation.

"I'll see that the proper official carries out my instructions just the same," he said in a kind of a vicious hiss.

"There's just one man to help you, then," coolly announced the engineer, "and that's Tim Forgan."

The inspector moved hastily away.

"And he won't do it!" concluded the engineer, in an chuckling undertone, giving Ralph a ringing slap on the shoulder.

CHAPTER XXV--DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND

Ralph went back to the roundhouse a trifle perturbed in his mind as to the outcome of the episode of the hour.

Something instinctively told him that he was about to have trouble. He did not like that violent start of the inspector when he heard his name, and there was something sinister in the way Bardon had looked up some memoranda, and afterwards eyed him as a vulture might its prey.

Limpy nearly had a fit when he had managed to probe out of Ralph the details of his arraignment by the great and potent inspector.

"Lay you off for saving the company a small fortune?" raved the helper indignantly. "Say! you just tell that malicious scoundrel I told you to change the switch."

"I shall do nothing of the kind," answered Ralph calmly, "and you are a good deal more worried about the affair than I am. I acted as common sense and duty dictated, and I do not fear the final outcome."

Just before quitting-time Bardon came into the roundhouse. He was closeted with the foreman in his office until the whistle sounded, and as Ralph left the place both came out and began a tour of the place.

"I expect something will drop in the morning!" Ralph half-jocularly told Limpy, as he bade him good-night.

Ralph made it a rule to tell his mother everything of interest and importance that came up during the day. Mrs. Fairbanks was manifestly troubled when he had recited his encounter with Bardon.

After supper Ralph went out with Van to inspect the new chicken coop he had just built. He was surprised and pleased at the patience, ingenuity and actual hard work displayed in the same, and Van seemed to show a deeper appreciation and understanding of Ralph's commendation than he had heretofore displayed.

Ralph viewed him thoughtfully. He again began considering a plan to take Van down the road some day on the chance of locating his former home.

At nine o'clock that evening, just as Ralph was locking up for the night, there came a tremendous thump at the front door.

Ralph went thither, to confront Big Denny, the yard watchman.

Denny was in a feverish state of excitement, was perspiring, prancing about with his cane, never still, and laboring under some severe mental agitation.

"Alone, Fairbanks?" he projected, in a startling, breathless kind of a way.

"They've all gone to bed but myself," answered Ralph.

"Can I come in?"

"Surely, and welcome."

Denny thumped into the little parlor. He mopped his brow prodigiously, loosened his collar, fidgeted and fumed, and after looking cautiously around put his finger mysteriously to his lips with the hoa.r.s.ely-whispered injunction:

"Secret as the grave, Fairbanks!"

Ralph nodded, with a smile indulging the whim or mood of his good loyal friend, who he knew was given to heroics.

"What's the trouble?" he asked.

"Bardon."

"I fancied so," said Ralph.

"Came right up here to see you," explained Denny. "Forgan sent me."