“I know! I know, boy! But this system is having an economical streak and I am afraid I cannot squeeze you through another assistant, Ralph. Not just now.” “It better be now, or it will be too late,” declared Ralph. “This efficiency expert that is running things at this terminal is going to get to the board and show ’em that I can run this office with a cripple and a fifteen year old boy, I shouldn’t wonder.” “You mean the super?” exclaimed Mr. Glidden. “I see you are a good guesser.” “Barton Hopkins is the limit!” exclaimed the chief dispatcher of the Great Northern. “I had no idea he would have the impudence to interfere in our affairs.” “I’m telling you. He has just now told me how I can work two shifts a day myself and so save one man’s salary.” “Don’t pay the least attention to him, Ralph!” said Mr. Glidden earnestly. “Just the same I have an idea that you are going to hear from him. And he’ll go higher up. He is as persistent as a red ant.” “And just about as useful,” growled out Glidden over the wire. “And I never did see that ants were of much use in spite of all the philosophers. They are just a nuisance when they get into the sugar.” This made Ralph laugh, and when he hung up the telephone receiver he felt better. He knew he had a friend at headquarters who would do his best to look out for his interests. That afternoon, however, he had the sample of Mr. Hopkins’ dislike for him that he had expected. When he left the railroad building and walked down South Main Street to do an errand for his mother, he saw a little electric runabout take the crossing at Hammerby Street and turn toward one of the big department stores. He knew the car at a glance, for he had seen Cherry Hopkins and her mother driving it many times. The women entered the store and Ralph went on about his business. Half an hour later he was returning when he spied several young men walking ahead of him toward the department store into which Mrs. Hopkins and Cherry had disappeared. One of these fellows the train dispatcher identified as Whitey Malone. As the gang lurched along the sidewalk, taking up more than their share of the way, Ralph fell to a slower pace and watched them. Opposite the Hopkins car the gang halted. Whitey stooped and seemed to be examining the wheels on that side. Ralph quickened his pace, for he had a feeling that Whitey Malone would do almost any mean trick which might hurt any of the Hopkins family. In a moment Malone got to his feet and started after his friends. A small boy walking near Ralph began to giggle. “What’s all the joy, kid?” the young dispatcher asked curiously. “Didn’t you see that?” demanded the youngster. “I didn’t see anything, I guess,” rejoined the puzzled Ralph. “That white-headed feller turned a cute trick then. Say, they are all doing it! I seen a car last night—”