About ten o'clock the next morning Ralph was called to the foreman's office.
He expected some further developments in the matter of the brass fittings, but, upon entering the room, found himself face to face with Ike Slump's father.
The foreman was, or pretended to be, busy at his desk. Slump senior looked very much troubled. Ralph shrank from his repulsive face and a memory of his nefarious calling, but he nodded politely as Slump asked:
"This is young Fairbanks?"
The saloon keeper fidgeted for a minute or two. Then he said:
"I don't suppose you bear any particular good will towards me or mine, Fairbanks, but I've had to come to you. My boy assaulted you last night, I understand."
"Why, no," answered Ralph, with a slight smile—"he only tried to."
"Well, it's just this: He's in trouble, and he's likely to go deeper unless he's stopped. He keeps out of my way. His mother is heart-broken and sick abed over his doings."
"I am very sorry," said Ralph. "Can I do anything to help you, Mr. Slump?"
"I think you can," answered Slump. "You know Ike and his associates, and maybe you can
