"All right," laughed Ralph genially. "Say, I saw a dispatch in the Bridgeport paper to day from Stanley Junction that ought to make you feel pretty good."
"Did?" snapped Fogg, determinedly antagonistic and stubbornly keeping his face turned away.
"Yes. It gave the list of names of those in our district who passed an examination as school teachers."
Ralph observed that a tremor ran through the fireman's frame at this intelligence.
"Who—who was in it?' he questioned, his voice hoarse and tense.
"Two from the Junction."
"Two?"
"Yes, and the one who led with the highest average was your daughter, Nellie."
"I—I don't deserve it!" fairly sobbed the fireman, getting up suddenly and striving to hide his emotion. "Boy!" and he trembled all over as he now faced Ralph, "I'm steamed up again, as you can plainly see. I won't deny it, but I had to, I couldn't fire a mile unless I steamed up, but I'll say one thing with truth—I've got no bottle in the cab."
"That's good, Mr. Fogg," said Ralph.
"And never will have again, and you've seen
