"You can't look too far ahead," declared the agent sapiently. "Dropping jollying, though, we narrow down to real service. There's your starting point, my boy, plain, sure and simple, and don't you forget it—and don't you miss it!"
He extended his finger down the rails.
"The roundhouse?" said Ralph, following his indication.
"The roundhouse, Fairbanks, the first step, and I never knew a genuine, all-around railroad man who didn't make his start in the business in the oil bins."
"What is the main qualification to recommend a fellow?" asked Ralph.
"An old suit of clothes, a tough hide, and lots of grit."
"I think, then, I can come well indorsed," laughed Ralph. "Whom do I see?"
"Usually the ambitious father of a future railway president goes through the regular application course at headquarters," explained the agent, "but if you want quick action"
"I do."
"See the foreman."
"Who is he?"
"Tim Forgan. If he takes you on, and you get to be a fixture, the application route is handy later, when you think you deserve promotion."
