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 passageway 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
