“You’ll see,” said Pinkey, doggedly, and fell to work “ladling in the lampblack.”
Michaels watched him for a few moments in silence.
“What’s the matter?” he inquired, at length. “Got a hole in the fire-box?”
“No; why?” asked Pinkey, pausing between two shovelfuls.
“Somebody buried back there, an’ you’re tryin’ to dig him out?” pursued the engineer, with a gesture toward the pile of coal in the tender.
“What you talkin’ about, anyway?” demanded Pinkey, staring at him in amazement.
“Say, Jim,” said the engineer to the brakeman, “take that scoop away from that idiot, will ye? Pinkey, git up there on your box an’ set down or I’ll report ye fer wastin’ th’ company’s fuel.”
“She won’t steam without coal,” protested Pinkey.
“No; nor she won’t steam with a bellyful like that, either,” retorted the engineer, throwing on the draft. “Now I’ve got t’ blow about half of it out the smoke-stack.”