Page:Frank Packard - On the Iron at Big Cloud.djvu/279

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"WHERE'S HAGGERTY?"
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circumstances required that he should breathe the same air as his superior. Haggerty had acquired a swagger; also, he now voiced his opinion, his cordially poor opinion, of Mr. Hale without restraint and with no check upon his tongue.

And then Haggerty got a shock. It was imparted by Spence.

"Got it from Hale's clerk last night," said the dispatcher. "He's going to run an inspection special over the division, and he's picked out the fag end of all things for the crew. He picked you first, Haggerty."

"Aw, forget it!" growled Haggerty, with a scowl.

"I think there's something behind it, though," Spence went on, his voice modulated confidentially. "Between you and me, Haggerty, the inspection trip is a bluff."

Haggerty pricked up his ears. "How's that?" he demanded.

"Well," said Spence serenely, backing to a safe distance, "I think he's hurt at the way you've cut him since he's been here. He's pining for your company, and——"

Haggerty sprang to his feet from the baggage truck on which he had been seated, and shook his fist frantically at the fast retreating figure. He was still gesticulating fiercely and muttering savagely to himself when the window in the dispatcher's room overhead opened softly, and Spence stuck out his head.

"Hey, there, Haggerty," he called, "quit practising that deaf and dumb alphabet. You haven't got any time to waste. You want to run along and get the