Ralph of the Roundhouse: or, Bound to Become a Railroad Man. Chapman Allen

      "No, you don't!" sounded a strident voice. "I've got you at last, have I?"

      In astonishment Ralph looked up, to recognize his self-announced captor. It was Gasper Farrington.

      CHAPTER VIII-THE OLD FACTORY

      Ralph pulled loose from the grasp of the crabbed old capitalist, fairly indignant at the sudden onslaught.

      "Don't you run! don't you run!" cried Farrington, swinging his cane threateningly.

      "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 public street 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 showing in 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 they stood, indicating the old unused factory.

      A light broke on Ralph's mind.

      "I own that building," announced Farrington, swelling up with importance-"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 have done 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 the money, and I'll have my man fix it."

      Ralph laughed outright.

      "Hardly, Mr. Farrington," he said. "I can buy a pane of glass for thirty-five cents, and put it in for nothing. I will take this bundle home and attend to it at once."

      Farrington looked mad and disappointed at being outwitted in his attempt to make three hundred per cent. However, if Ralph made good he could find no fault with the proposition. He mumbled darkly and Ralph passed on. Then a temptation he could not resist came to the boy, and turning he remarked: