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Words: 54294 in 36 pages
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cripple the Great Northern through an unjust strike. A man named Jim Evans had been one of the leaders. Fogg had sympathized with the strikers. Griscom and Ralph had routed the malcontents in a fair, open-handed battle of arguments and blows. Fogg had been reinstated by the road, but he had to go back on the promotion list, and his rancor was intense when he learned that Ralph had been chosen to a position superior to his own.
"They want young blood, the railroad nobs tell it," the disgruntled fireman had been heard to remark in his favorite tippling place on Railroad Street. "Humph! They'll have blood, and lots of it, if they trust the lives of passengers and crew to a lot of kindergarten graduates."
Of all this Ralph was thinking as they covered a clear dash of twenty miles over the best stretch of grading on the road, and with satisfaction he noted that they had gained three minutes on the schedule time. He whistled for a station at which they did not stop, set full speed again as they left the little village behind them, and glanced sharply at Fogg.
The latter had not spoken a word for over half-an-hour. He had gone about his duties in a dogged, sullen fashion that showed the permanency of the grouch with which old John Griscom had charged him. Ralph had made up his mind to leave his cab companion severely alone until he became more reasonable. However, there were some things about Fogg of which the young engineer was bound to take notice, and a new enlightenment came to Ralph's mind as he now glanced at his helper.
Fogg had slipped clumsily on the tender plate in using the coal rake, and Ralph had marveled at this unusual lack of steadiness of footing. Then, twice he had gone out on the running board on some useless errand, fumbling about in an inexplicable way. His hot, fetid breath crossed Ralph's face, and the latter arrived at a definite conclusion, and he was sorry for it. Fogg had been "firing up" from a secret bottle ever since they had left the Junction, and his condition was momentarily becoming more serious and alarming.
They were slowing down to a stop at a water tank as Ralph saw Fogg draw back, and under cover of the tender lift a flask to his lips. Then Fogg slipped it under the cushion of his seat as he turned to get some coal.
He dropped the shovel, coal and all, with a wild snort of rage, as turning towards the fire box door he saw Ralph reach over swiftly, grab the half empty bottle from under the cushion, and give it a fling to the road bed, where it was dashed into a thousand pieces.
Blood in his eye, uncontrollable fury in his heart, the irrational fireman, both fists uplifted, made a wild onslaught upon the young engineer.
"You impudent meddler!" he raved. "I'll smash you!"
A SPECIAL PASSENGER
"Behave yourself," said Ralph Fairbanks quietly.
The young engineer simply gave his furious antagonist a push with his free hand. The other hand was on duty, and Ralph's eyes as well. He succeeded in bringing the locomotive to a stop before Fogg needed any further attention.
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