Ralph sighed. Had he gone too far? The sincerity of his wish for the foreman's good told him he had not.
In the little office he could hear Forgan striding to and fro. Suddenly there was a halt.
Then came a crash. If only for the time being, Tim Forgan had been influenced to a holy, beneficent decision. He had shattered the wretched black bottle to atoms.
"Thank God!" breathed the young railroader fervently.
[CHAPTER XV--"VAN"]
When the one o'clock whistle sounded, Ralph started over for the engine stalls.
"Hold on!" challenged the lame helper, suddenly appearing in his usual extraordinary way.
"What's the trouble?" asked Ralph.
"Boss says you're on the sick list."
"But I'm not!" declared Ralph with a smile and mock-valiantly waving his injured arm.