badly bruised and that Ike was disabled, at least for a time.
"I'm going for help," he said simply, and darted from the shed. Ike yelled after him to protest against desertion, but Ralph paid no attention. He planned to get to friends while Evans was still away, and he determined to get back with friends by the time Evans returned.
Fogg was at the engine as Ralph ran along the tracks, and one of the brakemen of the accommodation was with him. Ralph rapidly apprized his fireman of the situation.
"Slump and Evans, eh!" muttered Fogg, a deep crinkle of belligerency crossing his forehead. "It was Slump who stole half my chickens. As to Evans, his mean treachery during the strike came near getting me discharged. I thought they were safe in jail."
"So did I," said Ralph. "They seem to have escaped, though. Mr. Fogg, they are bad people to have at large."
"Bad! they're of a dangerous breed, I tell you. Simmons, hustle along with us."
The fireman snatched up a furnace poker and put down the track after Ralph, on the run. He was the first to dart into the shed when they reached it, and ran up against the others following, after a swift glance about the place.
