"When you come to the bell, give her a good, hard rubbing. They'll give you some sand at the supply shed."
"Sand?" repeated Ralph vaguely.
"Sure. Dump it in with the grease in the little pail, and don't fail to slap it on thick and plenty."
Ralph said nothing. He started for the passageway with more thoughts than one in his mind. As he shot a quick glance back of him, he observed Ike leap from the bench, poke out the grease ball, palm it, and disappear from his range of vision.
Ralph went to the supply shed and got a can full of sand. Then he started back the way he had come.
As he did so, he observed the foreman turn into the passage in front of him.
Ralph was due to pass by him, for the foreman was pursuing his way at a leisurely gait, but Ralph did nothing of the sort.
He guessed considerable and anticipated more from the recent suspicious movements of his temporary master, and smiled slightly, allowing the foreman to precede him.
As Tim Forgan stepped through the doorway leading into the roundhouse, that happened which Ralph Fairbanks had foreseen.
His enemy, lying in wait there to "christen" his new work suit as he had threatened, let drive, never doubting but that the approaching footsteps were those of Ralph.