“Shucks! Nothing like that is likely to happen again, Mother,” he interrupted. “I’m a regular stick-in-the-mud now. Youngest chief dispatcher of any division of the Great Northern system. Why! I’m an old man.” “You are just as likely as ever to be tempted to do a reckless thing,” she said, but she smiled at him. “An old man! You are just a baby to me, Ralph, after all.” He laughed; but he blushed, too. “Don’t baby me too much, Mother,” he said. “The girls don’t think I am a baby.” “Indeed?” she asked. “Are there more girls? I don’t know but you are in more danger off the road, than on.” “A new one,” said Ralph frankly. He and his mother were the very best of friends. “Didn’t I tell you the new super has a daughter? And she’s a peach! No! I mean she is a Cherry.” “Cherry?” “Cherry Hopkins. She is the girl I saw home just now.” “Is she as pretty as her name?” asked Mrs. Fairbanks curiously. “You bet she is! I’d like to have you see her. I don’t see how such a cold and severe proposition as Mr. Hopkins ever came by such a daughter.” “So you think well of her, do you?” asked the widow rather wistfully. “I surely do. But I don’t know what she thinks of me. You know how these girls are. They keep everything close. A fellow doesn’t have a chance to learn their opinion of him. They treat ’em all alike.” “Quite right,” returned the widow. “The reticent girl keeps out of danger.” “Humph! I don’t know how much danger she keeps out of,” said Ralph. “But believe me, if something is not done pretty soon to appease the shopmen it will not be safe for either Cherry or her mother to walk on the streets.” “Well, my dear boy,” begged the widow, “I hope you will keep out of any part in the trouble. You surely cannot help Mr. Hopkins.” “He wouldn’t let me help him if I could do so,” answered Ralph. “All the better,” his mother said with satisfaction. “If you cannot be drawn into the trouble by either side in the controversy, very well. I shall feel safe, at least.” “I guess I am out of it, for once,” admitted her son. “It gives a fellow a lot to think of. I hate to see trouble come to the division. That Andy McCarrey ought to be jailed. But, on the other hand, I feel that Barton Hopkins is quite as much at fault. By gracious! If I were the G. M.——” At that his mother burst into laughter. “Oh! You are looking forward to what you would do if you were running the Great Northern,” she jeered. “I don’t care,” cried her son. “I can see as far into a brick wall as the next one. And when I know things are going wrong——” “You think you could fix them all up, Ralph?” “I know I could keep things straighter than Hopkins does. Maybe I would not be so popular with the directors and stockholders; but I’d run this division without having so much friction. You can bet on that, Mother.” “I never bet,” she replied soberly, but her eyes dancing.