“And you, Zeph?” said Ralph, turning to the farmer boy.
Zeph had been strangely silent. He appeared to be trying to look very dignified and much absorbed in thought.
“Oh, me?” he said now. “Why, I’m already at work. Commence to-night. Call boy at the roundhouse. Old one is with the strikers. Mr. Forgan engaged me this afternoon.”
“Why, that is fine,” said Ralph. “A start in the right direction. Look out for the strikers, though, Zeph.”
“Don’t fret about me,” advised Zeph. “I’m a 126 fighter when aroused. See, here is my list to call in the morning,” and he showed Ralph a slip of paper containing about a dozen names.
Ralph read it over, and after a meal went out with Zeph and showed him the location of the homes of those named in the list.
“This job is all right,” said Zeph, as they returned to the house, “but it is only a sort of side line with me.”
“Indeed?” smiled Ralph, amused at the off-hand, yet self-important manner of his companion.
“Oh, yes.”
“How is that?”