CHAPTER VIII--THE OLD FACTORY
Ralph pulled loose from the grasp of the crabbed old capitalist, fairlyindignant at the sudden onslaught.
"Don't you run! don't you run!" cried Farrington, swinging his canethreateningly.
"And don't you dare to strike!" warned Ralph, with a glitter in his eye."I'd like to know, sir, what right you have stopping me on the publicstreet in this manner?"
"It will be a warrant matter, if you aint careful!" retorted Farrington.
"I can't imagine how."
"Oh, can't you?" gibed Farrington, his plain animosity for Ralph showingin his malicious old face. "Well, I'll show you."
"I shall be glad to have you do so."
"Do you see that building?"
Farrington pointed across the baseball grounds at the edge of which theystood, indicating the old unused factory.
A light broke on Ralph's mind.
"I own that building," announced Farrington, swelling up withimportance--"it's my property."
"So I've heard."
"A window was broken there and you broke it!"
"I did," admitted Ralph.
"Oho! you shamefacedly acknowledge it, do you? Malicious mischief,young man--that's the phase of the law you're up against!"
"It was an accident," said Ralph--"pure and simple."
"Well, you'll stand for it."
"I intend to. I made a note of it in my mind at the time, Mr.Farrington, and if you had not said a word to me about it I should havedone the right thing."
"What do you call the right thing?"
"Replacing the light of glass, of course," was Ralph's reply.
"Glad to see you've got some sense of decency about you. All right.It'll cost you just a dollar and twenty-five cents. Hand over themoney, and I'll have my man fix it."
Ralph laughed outright.
"Hardly, Mr. Farrington," he said. "I can buy a pane of glass forthirty-five cents, and put it in for nothing. I will take this bundlehome and attend to it at once."
Farrington looked mad and disappointed at being outwitted in his attemptto make three hundred per cent. However, if Ralph made good he couldfind no fault with the proposition. He mumbled darkly and Ralph passedon. Then a temptation he could not resist came to the boy, and turninghe remarked:
"You'll be glad to know, perhaps, Mr. Farrington, that I have obtainedsteady work."
"Why should I be glad?"
"Because you advised it, and because it will enable us to pay you yourinterest promptly."
"Humph!" Then with an eager expression of face Farrington asked: "Whatare you going to work at?"
"Railroading."
"Very good--of course at the general offices at Springfield?"
"Of course not. I start in at the roundhouse here, to-morrow."
It was amazing how sour the magnate's face suddenly grew. Once moreRalph wondered why this man was so anxious to get them out of StanleyJunction.
Ralph proceeded homewards. It warmed his heart to see how thoroughlyhis mother entered into all his hopes and projects. She was soon busyin her quick, sure way, sewing on more strongly the buttons of jumperand overalls, and promised to have a neat light cap and working glovesready for him by nightfall.
Ralph explained to her about the broken window, got a rule from hisfather's old tool chest, and went over to the vacant factory.
It was surrounded by a high fence, but at one place in seeking lostballs members of the Criterion Club had partially removed a gate. Ralphpassed among the debris littering the yard, and went around the placeuntil he found a door with a broken lock.
He gained the inside and went up a rickety stairs. Swinging open a doorat their top, Ralph found himself in the compartment with the brokenwindow.
The air was close and unwholesome, despite the orifice the baseball hadmade. A broken skylight topped the center of the room, and a rain ofthe previous night had dripped down unimpeded and soaked the flooring.
"The ball must be here somewhere," mused Ralph. "There it is, but----"
As he spied the ball about the center of the room, Ralph discernedsomething else that sent a quick wave of concern across his nerves.
He stood silent and spellbound.
Upon the floor was a human being, so grimly stark and white, that deathwas instantly suggested to Ralph's mind.
His eyes, becoming accustomed to the half-veiled light filtered throughthe dirt-crusted panes of the skylight, made out that the figure on thefloor was that of a boy.
As he riveted his glance, Ralph further discovered that it was the sameboy he had met at the depot the morning previous--the mysterious"dead-head" under the trucks of the 10.15 train.
He lay upon the rough boards face upwards, his limbs stretched outnaturally, but stiff and useless-looking.
The rain had soaked his garments, and he must have lain there at leastsince last midnight. Ralph was shocked and uncertain. Then an abruptthought made him tremble and fear.
The ball lay by the boy's side. Right above one temple was the darkcircular outline of a depression.
It flashed like lightning through Ralph's mind that the stranger hadbeen struck by the ball.
The theory forced itself upon him that in hiding from the pursuing depotwatchman, the stranger had sought refuge in the factory.
He might have quite naturally needed a rest after his long and torturingride on truck and crossbar--he must have been in this room when Ralphhad swung the bat that had sent the baseball hurtling through the windowwith the force of a cannon shot.
"It is true--it is true!" breathed Ralph in a ghastly whisper, as thefull consequence of his innocent act burst upon his mind.
He had to hold to a post to support himself, swaying there and lookingdown at the cold, mute face, sick at heart, and his brain clouded withdread.
It must have been a full five minutes before he pulled himself together,and tried to divest himself of the unnatural horror that palsied hisenergies.
He finally braced his nerves, and, advancing, knelt beside the prostrateboy.
Ralph placed his trembling hand inside the open coat, and let it restover the heart. His own throbbed loud and strong with hope and relief,as under his finger tips there was a faint, faint fluttering.
"He is alive--thank heaven for that!" cried Ralph fervently.
He ran to the window. Through the broken pane he could view thebaseball grounds and the clubhouse beyond.
Will Cheever was sitting outside of the house, and at a little distanceanother member of the Criterions was exercising with a pair of Indianclubs.
Ralph tried to lift the lower sash, but it would not budge.
He ripped out of place the loose side piece, and removed the sashcomplete.
"Will--boys!" he shouted loudly, "come--come quick!"
Ralph of the Roundhouse; Or, Bound to Become a Railroad Man Page 8