“And a little of the interest of Ralph Fairbanks at heart,” returned the young fellow angrily. “Why, what chance would I have for any freedom? I come down at nine now and go away at five. Why should I go back to the key during the dog watches?” “If you will do so I can show you how you may get rid of one operator.” “I don’t wish to get rid of one operator. I ought really to have another. Let me remind you, Mr. Hopkins, the strain on a train dispatcher and his assistants, especially under the schedules we have to make on this division just now, is something fierce! You don’t know what you are talking about, Mr. Hopkins.” “I know exactly what I am talking about, young man,” said the supervisor grimly, and those eyeglasses of his seemed fairly to sparkle. “I am pointing out to you a way in which you can save the road one man’s salary——” “Tell that to the stockholders—don’t tell it to me!” cried Ralph angrily. “If I can find some way of making them see at headquarters that I need another man, I am going to do so. I know what is needed in my department. You don’t. Keep your hands off!” Hopkins spoke again before the train dispatcher reached the door. “You would better consider my offer of advice, Fairbanks,” and his voice was like ice. “I give you a chance, first.” “To whom will you give the second chance?” demanded Ralph, looking back at him. “I shall place my advice before the proper authorities. They have hired me to make this division efficient in every way. I do not like to go over your head——” “Don’t let that bother you,” answered Ralph. “I shall not hold it against you, Mr. Hopkins, if you manage to take your ideas before a special meeting of the board. Nobody save John Glidden is going to give me my orders. You may as well understand that right now. Good-day!” He swung out of the room, closing the door with an emphatic bang. He felt a decided warmth of satisfaction because of this throwing of his glove at Mr. Hopkins’ feet. Yet he thought, too: “Well, that does settle me with Miss Cherry. I am persona non grata there for the rest of the chapter. Humph! What cheek—what cold, brass, gall—that man has!” CHAPTER IX IT HAPPENS AGAIN As soon as he got back to the train dispatchers’ department Ralph put in a call for main headquarters and Mr. John Glidden. After a time the switchboard operator called him and Ralph went into the booth. “How do the schedules go, Ralph?” asked Mr. Glidden, after briefly greeting his young friend. “I hear you are having trouble.” “Trouble enough. That Midnight Flyer is the worst thing on our hands just now, however.” “Number Two-o-two?” “Yes, sir. Two hundred and two. Believe me! It’s like crowding a fat man through a Pullman ventilator.” “Well, what else is the trouble?” “As I have told you a dozen times, Mr. Glidden, we are short-handed.”