Frank’s habitual association with well-bred people had done much for him. The very air about him was different from that of the other wipers, no matter if his clothes were as greasy and his hands as dirty. At the same time he never made it apparent that he felt himself too good for his work and associates.
The foreman observed this, although he made no sign. He was watching Frank with astonishment, but scarcely a word of approval did he speak. He was not ready to express himself.
Although he had familiarized himself with the mysterious properties of the slide valve, Merry did not attempt to take part in the deeply erudite discussions which frequently took place among wipers and firemen. He listened and kept still. All the time he was learning, feeling sure the time would come when he would be given an opportunity to display his knowledge to advantage.
To the surprise of everybody, and the disgust of Joe Hicks, Frank was given time after time No. 33 to clean. Hicks growled and glared at the youth, but Frank remained polite in his bearing toward the surly engineer.
To Merry’s surprise, Old Slugs came to him one day, and said:
“I don’t know that I want to see you done up, even if you did give me a thumping. I don’t hold a grudge, for you done it fair and square. But I want to tell ye to look out—keep your eyes open all the time.”
“I thank you for the warning, Mr. Hall; but I am afraid I do not understand what you mean.”
“You’ve got a bad man down on you.”
“Do you mean Mr. Hicks?”
“Just him. Now, I don’t want it known I made any talk, for I’m not hankering to have Joe Hicks get after me when he is on a rampage, but I say look out.”