the shoe pinches, is it?" bantered the old
railroad veteran. "Come, be fair, Fogg. You was glad to win your own
spurs when you were young."

"All right, mind the try-out, you hear me!" snorted Fogg ungraciously.
"You mind your own business."

"Say," shot out Griscom quickly, as he caught a whiff from Fogg's
lips, "you be sure you mind yours--and the rules," he added, quite
sternly, "I advise you not to get too near the furnace."

"Eh, why not?"

"Your breath might catch fire, that's why," announced Griscom bluntly,
and turned his back on the disgruntled fireman.

Ralph had not caught this sharp cross-fire of repartee. His mind had
been intently fixed on his task. He had started up the locomotive
slowly, but now, clearing the depot switches, he pulled the lever a
notch or two, watching carefully ahead. As the train rounded a curve
to an air line, a series of brave hurrahs along the side of the track
sent a thrill of pleasure through Ralph's frame.

The young engineer had only a fleeting second or two to bestow on a
little group, standing at the rear fence of a yard backing down to the
tracks. His mother was there, gaily waving a handkerchief. A neighbor
joined in the welcome, and half-a-dozen boys and small children with
whom Ralph was a rare favorite made the air ring with enthusiastic
cheers.

"Friends everywhere, lad," spoke Griscom in a kindly tone, and then,
edging nearer to his prime young favorite, he half-whispered: "Keep
your eye on this grouch of a Fogg."

"Why, you don't mean anything serious, Mr. Griscom?" inquired Ralph,
with a quick glance at the fireman.

"Yes, I do," proclaimed the old railroader plainly. "He's got it in
for you--it's the talk of the yards, and he's in just the right frame
of mind to bite off his own nose to spite his face. So long."

The locomotive had slowed up for crossing signals, and Griscom got to
the ground with a careless sail through the air, waved his hand, and
Ralph buckled down to real work on No. 999.

He glanced at the schedule sheet and the clock. The gauges were in
fine working order. There was not a full head of steam on as yet and
the fire box was somewhat over full, but there was a strong draft and
a twenty-mile straight run before them, and Ralph felt they could make
it easily.

"Don't choke her too full, Mr. Fogg," he remarked to the fireman.

"Teach me!" snorted Fogg, and threw another shovelful into the box
already crowded, and backed against the te