"To the match? Not he," sneered Hal Smith, who stood near. "He couldn't spare a tanner for gate money, and he's going to stop at home and say his prayers, little dear, because football's wicked, and he's got to get ready for the Sabbath day."
"Nonsense! There's no harm in football. Own up now, Dick, wouldn't you like to see the match?"
"Maybe I should, especially if I could be in it," said Dick, good humouredly.
"Hear him?" shouted Hal in derision, "he wants to be captain of our team, no doubt, the little upstart! Come on, lads, we don't want his company. See, all the others are going."
Soon the tramp of many feet died away, and the yards were left to Saturday's quiet and loneliness.
The throb of the machinery and all the stir and clatter of toil had ceased till midnight on Sunday, when the first shift of workers would begin again.
But Dick felt entirely happy as he took a huge "doorstep" of bread and cheese and a rosy apple from his bag, and began to munch it in the shadow of a great locomotive that stood on the lines, not far from the manager's office.
A few days before this engine had been brought in smoking hot for repairs, and on Monday the work would be finished.
Dick's quick eyes had seen new features in the make of this visitor, and he resolved to use part of his holiday in investigations. Mrs. Garth would be busy with her cleaning and would not need him, and Pat, who was beginning to know Saturday afternoon, must wait for his weekly outing.
He had on his dirty slop that was already very grimy from the week's wear and toil, and as soon as he had finished his dinner he began a minute inspection of the beautifully finished monster.