Slavin had unconsciously given Ralph the crushing hand-shake that used to lay up unsuspicious new acquaintances for a week. To his surprise the grip was returned with equal force. Ralph did not even wince.
"You're a good one," pronounced Slavin, in genuine admiration. "I thought I'd hurt you."
"Pulling those levers is a great muscle-builder," explained Ralph.
"Looks so, in your case," admitted Slavin. "Say," he added, in a kind of longing sigh, his eyes sparkling as they ran the grim battery of switch pullers--"there's my ambition in life."
"What's that, Slavin--tower duty?"
"Oh, anything in the railroad line, from pulling up piles to driving spikes," declared Slavin, swinging his big arms about restlessly. "There's no bad in me. I'd love to work. Only, you see, I was born strong, and something has kept me pushing my muscle to the fore. It led to encouraging me to be a bruiser. I tell you, if I had a job like this, where I could work off the extra steam, I'd just make a record."
"Then--why not?" inquired Ralph.
"You mean, why not get the job?" exclaimed Slavin in an eager breath.
"Exactly."
"Would they have me?"