Ralph of the Roundhouse - novelonlinefull.com
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"The foreman?" murmured Ralph, in some surprise.
"Yes. You are not to report in the morning."
"Does Mr. Forgan say so?"
"Strictly. You are not to come near the roundhouse for a good many days. They've got it in for you, and Tim Forgan and I are going to rout 'em, horse and harness!"
"Rout whom?"
"Bardon and Farrington."
Ralph started at this mention of his capitalist enemy.
"Mr. Farrington?" he repeated.
"Yes, old Farrington."
"What has he got to do with it?"
"Everything," declared Denny expansively--"everything! The company is going to lay you off."
"Very well," commented Ralph quietly.
"Pending an investigation of the smash up of this afternoon."
"I apprehended it."
"Do you know what that means?" cried Denny, growing excited--"red tape.
Do you know what red tape means? Delay, bother, no satisfaction, tire you out, get you out, throw you out! They catch weasels asleep, though, ha! ha! when they try it on two old war-horses like Tim and me!"
Big Denny hugged himself in the enjoyment of some pleasing idea not yet fully expressed.
"Here's the program," he went on: "the inspector came to Forgan. He'd got hold of the smashed roundhouse wall incident, and he had hold of the freight smash-up to-day. Said an example must be made, system must be preserved, at least a report to headquarters, and an investigation."
"What did Mr. Forgan say?" inquired Ralph.
"Listened--solemnly, didn't say a word."
"Oh!"
"Until Bardon asked him bluntly to lay you off."
"And then?"
"Refused--point-blank. Bardon left in a huff, with a threat; Tim gave me my point. I followed him. Well, soon as he gets back to Springfield he's going to get an order over Forgan's head to lay you off."
"Can he do it?"
"He won't do it."
"Why not?"
"For a simple reason."
"Which is?"
"We block his game. Have you got pen, ink and paper in the house?"
"Yes."
"Fetch it out."
Ralph wondered a little, but realized that he was in the hands of loyal friends.
"Now then, you write," directed Denny. "Mind you, Forgan is in this with me. You write."
"Write what?"
"Your resignation from railroad service."
"Whew!" exclaimed Ralph, putting down the pen forcibly.
"Looks hard, does it?" chuckled Denny.
"Why--yes."
"You'll do it, just the same," predicted the big watchman. "That resignation goes to headquarters. That ends Ralph Fairbanks, wiper, doesn't it?"
"I suppose it does--it looks very much like it!" added Ralph vaguely.
"It baffles Mr. Inspector Bardon, who drops the matter, beaten."
"But I've got to work for a living," suggested Ralph, in a half-troubled way.
"All right, we've fixed that--that's another section of the same game.
Write out your resignation, and I'll tell you something interesting.
Good!"
With complacency and satisfaction the watchman folded up and pocketed the resignation that Ralph wrote and handed him with evident reluctance.
"That settles the fact that Ralph Fairbanks is not a discharged employee!" chuckled Denny. "Now then, sign that."
The watchman had produced two papers. In astonishment Ralph recognized one as a check drawn in his favor by the railroad company for twenty dollars.
The other was a receipt witnessing that he had been reimbursed for time, damage to wearing apparel and railroad expenses the night he had discovered the stolen bra.s.s fittings. In brackets was the notation: "Special Service work."
"But I only spent thirty-five cents for car fare, and the suit of clothes I soaked is as good as ever," declared Ralph.