"Yes, there is!" snapped Forgan. Ralph surprisedly wondered why this man seemed determined to be at odds with him. He had not fallen in with very cheerful or elevating company. Forgan continued to regard him with an evil eye.
"See here," he said roughly, "I'll have discipline here, and I'll be boss. I'll give you your duties, and if you step over the line, get out. This isn't a playroom, as you'll probably find out before you've been here long."
Ralph thought it best to maintain silence.
"You take that box and can yonder, and go to the supply and oil sheds and get some waste and grease. Slump will be here soon, take your orders from him for to-day."
Ralph bowed politely and understandingly.
"I'll tell you another thing," went on Forgan harshly. "Don't you get to knowing too much, or talking about it. I'll have no spying around my affairs."
Ralph was astonished. He tried to catch the keynote of the foreman's plaint. Suspicion seemed the incentive of his anger, and yet Ralph could trace no reason for it.
An open doorway led from one side of the roundhouse. Ralph picked up a heavy sheet-iron pail and a tin box with a handle. Just then the helper came into view.
"Where do I go for oil and waste?" asked Ralph.
The helper surlily pointed through the doorway. Ralph found himself in a bricked-in passage, slippery with oil, and leading to a narrow yard. On one side was a row of sheds, whose interior comprised bins for boxes filled with all kinds of metal fittings. On the other side were like sheds, full of cans, pails and barrels. From here some men were conveying barrow loads of pails and cans filled with oil and grease, and Ralph went to an open door.