“Humph! I don’t know how much danger she keeps out of,” said Ralph. “But believe me, if something is not done pretty soon to appease the shopmen it will not be safe for either Cherry or her mother to walk on the streets.”
“Well, my dear boy,” begged the widow, “I hope you will keep out of any part in the trouble. You surely cannot help Mr. Hopkins.”
“He wouldn’t let me help him if I could do so,” answered Ralph.
“All the better,” his mother said with satisfaction. “If you cannot be drawn into the trouble by either side in the controversy, very well. I shall feel safe, at least.”
“I guess I am out of it, for once,” admitted her son. “It gives a fellow a lot to think of. I hate to see trouble come to the division. That Andy McCarrey ought to be jailed. But, on the other hand, I feel that Barton Hopkins is quite as much at fault. By gracious! If I were the G. M.——”
At that his mother burst into laughter. “Oh! You are looking forward to what you would do if you were running the Great Northern,” she jeered.
“I don’t care,” cried her son. “I can see as far into a brick wall as the next one. And when I know things are going wrong——”
“You think you could fix them all up, Ralph?”
“I know I could keep things straighter than Hopkins does. Maybe I would not be so popular with the directors and stockholders; but I’d run this division without having so much friction. You can bet on that, Mother.”
“I never bet,” she replied soberly, but her eyes dancing.