“Oh, I don’t want the glory,” explained Slump.
“What, then?”
“Just one chance to spurt her up till she rattled her old boiler into smithereens and run the whole train into the ditch. That’s how much I love the Great Northern!”
Ralph was disgusted. He started down the walk, but Slump was persistent. The latter caught his arm. Ralph allowed himself to be brought to a halt, but determined to break away very shortly.
“Just a word, Fairbanks, before you go,” said Slump. “You’re going to come across me once in a while, and I want a pleasant understanding, see? You won’t see me getting into any more scrapes by holding the bags for others. I’m after the real velvet now, and I’m going to get it, see? I know a heap of what’s going on, and something is. I’ll give you one tip. I can get you a small fortune to resign your position on the Great Northern.”
The way Ike Slump pronounced these words, looking squarely into the eyes of Ralph, could not fail to impress the latter with the conviction that there was some sinister meaning in the proposition. Ralph, however, laughed lightly.
“Thinking of starting a railroad of your own, Slump?” he asked.
“No, I ain’t,” dissented Slump. “All the same--you see, do you?”
Slump smartly put out one hand curved up like a cup.
“Yes, you told me before,” nodded Ralph--“clean hands this time.”