"See what you're doing, Steve!" he cried, pointing at the oily smutch.
"Why don't you have some clean waste round here, then?" Croly retorted. "When I used to run an engine, I had something to clean it with, instead of using waste after it was soaked full of oil."
"You're not running this engine," said Larry, quietly.
His heart was heating fast; so he was silent a moment before he spoke again, as he did not wish to speak in an angry tone.
"I think I could manage it about as well as any boy of your age," said Croly. "It's mighty foolish to trust such an engine as this to a boy. I heard some of the men talking about it with the super the last time your old man was off, and I fancy he don't like it very well."
"Perhaps you heard them say something about giving you the job," Larry responded, with a faint smile.
"It would look more sensible if they did," replied Croly, who had too much self-conceit to see the point of a joke that was aimed at him.
"Still," Larry answered, with more dignity, "since I am allowed to run the engine, I shall have to ask you to obey the rules against coming in here, after this."
"You mean that I can't come in to see the engine?"
"Not without leave. My father wouldn't let you, and you know it. Hereafter I wish you to keep out when I'm in charge."