He had overheard some of the men in the dog house hinting at the boss' failing, that morning. Now, Ralph knew what it was, and the discovery depressed him.
The stimulating draught seemed to restore the foreman's equilibrium, for in a minute or two, when he again addressed Ralph, his old half-dignified, half-autocratic manner had returned to him.
"We shall have no more Ike Slump here, father or no father," he observed. "I'm going to give you a chance, Fairbanks."
"Thank you, Mr. Forgan."
"Keep on as wiper till I get a new helper, and I'll give you a boost into an extra berth quicker than any boy ever shot up the roundhouse ladder before. I tell you, I'll never forget what you've done for me--and my dear little Nora!"
Ralph arose.
"Mr. Forgan," he said, "I am much obliged to you, and I hope I shall deserve and win your good opinion. But I want to earn my way. I don't wish to slip over one single branch of the course that will make a thorough, all-around, first-class railroad man out of me, and too fast promotion might spoil me."
The foreman understood him, but the liquor had exhilarated him, and he said:
"All the same, I'm your friend for life, Fairbanks--and I give you my word, when you ask me a favor, I'll grant it."
Ralph bowed and proceeded towards the door. Forgan was back at the closet almost immediately, Ralph wavered. He formed a quick resolution, and stepped back into the room just as the foreman turned, wiping off his lips.