SOME POINTS ABOUT HICKS.
Ganzell, the foreman, was not in the most pleasant frame of mind, for
he did not fancy being talked to in such a manner.
“See what you can do on her, young man,” he said, scowling at Frank.
“Hicks will raise a howl if he finds the least little thing wrong.”
“I’ll do my best, sir,” declared Frank, as he continued about his work.
“Here, Logan,” called the foreman, “look 33 over after Merriwell
finishes.”
“All roight, sur,” said the young Irishman, who was at work near by.
“Oi’ll do thot.”
Then the foreman went away.
After a little Larry Logan came over and watched Frank, making
suggestions now and then.
“It’s a bad marn ye have agin’ yez, Mr. Merriwell,” said Larry.
“Who, Hicks?”
“Yis, sur.”
“I have done nothing to get him against me!”
“Oi know thot; but he’ll hate yez jist th’ soame, an’ it’s th’ divvil
he is at toimes.”
“Well, I can’t help it if he does hate me. I was set to work on this
engine, and I propose to do the job.”
Larry nodded approvingly.
“Oi don’t belave yer afraid av th’ divvil hisself; but it’s well enough
to kape yer oie open.”
“That’s right. How about Old Slugs?”
“He’s been quiet as a lamb ivver since ye did him oop. Thot wur a foine
job, Mr. Merriwell, but it won’t be thot way wid Hicks.”
“No?”
“Nivver. He’ll not attimpt to foight yez on th’ square.”
“Will he fight?”
“He may be afther stroiking yez whin ye’re not lookin’.”
“Such foes are the most dangerous.”
“Thot they are, me b’y. An’ av all suspicions are thrue, ye’d not be
th’ firrust wan Joe Hicks has hit in th’ back.”
“How is that?”
“’Sh! It’s divvil a bit anybody loikes to say it around here, an’ ye
must kape shtill thot Oi said a wurrud.”
“I’m dumb.”
“Av old Joe wur not a foine ingineer, he’d not hold his job a day, fer
there do be times whin he st’ames op wid phwhisky, an’ they have to put
a marn in his place. Anybody ilse would lose his job. Old Joe is docked
or laid off, at th’ wurust. An’ whin he has pwhisky in, he’s th’ ould
imp an’ all.”
Larry looked about, as if making sure there was no one near enough to
hear, and then taking a seat on the pilot, and biting off a huge chew
of tobacco from a black plug, he went on:
“It wur a year ago old Joe got in his wurrust schrape. It wur thirty
days thot cost him, besides th’ toime he wur in jail.”
“So he got into jail?”
“Yis.”
“What for?”
“Th’ firrust charge wur fer bein’ droonk an’ disorderly, but thot came
near not bein’ th’ wurrust av it. It wur thought he did something
wurruse thin thot.”
Again the young Irishman looked all around, and his manner showed that
he was fearful that other ears than those of Frank Merriwell should
hear his words.
“There wur a murther in th’ case!” whispered Larry.
“A murder?” repeated Frank, growing interested.
“’Sh! Nivver a man spakes av it here in th’ place. Hicks were sane wid
a marn in a tough parrut av th’ city. Th’ nixt marnin’ th’ marn wur
found dead. He had been hit on th’ head wid a shtone, an’ his skull
wur not hard enough to shtand th’ crack at all, at all.”
“And they suspected that Hicks did it?”
“Be aisy! be aisy! Th’ charge wur made against him.”
“But not proven?”
“Nivver a bit. He got out av it wid th’ aid av an alibi, av yez know
what thoat is, divil a bit do Oi.”
“Why, he must have proved that he was in another locality at the time
the murder was committed.”
“Thot’s it! thot’s it! Thot’s th’ way he escaped.”
“Well, if he proved that he was all right.”
“Av he proved it? Well, he samed to prove it. Anyhow, it wur enough to
get him off.”
“Of course it is pretty tough to be charged with murder, but many an
innocent man has been accused of the crime.”
Larry nodded and turned the quid in his mouth.
“An’ minny a marn thot wur not innocent has got off widout bein’
poonished. It have been talked since thin thot old Joe’s alibi would
not hold warther.”
“If that is true, why wasn’t it discovered in the first place?”
“It wur fixed fer him thin, an’ th’ weak point not discovered till
aftherward. Even thin it wur not found by anybody thot cared to get
mixed in it at all, at all; but thim thot know say it’s more thin aven
old Joe tapped th’ unlucky devvil on th’ head. Oi warneted to tell yez,
so ye’d know th’ koind av a coostomer ye wur d’aling wid.”
“Thank you, Mr. Logan.”
“Now, don’t be afther callin’ me Misther Logan. Call me Larry. That is
good enough fer me.”
“All right, Larry.”
“Take me advice, an’ kape yer oies open fer Joe Hicks. He has been
known to stroike more thin one marn behoind his back. He’ll hate yez
now.”
“I can’t help that.”
“Nivver a bit. It’s particular he is wid his engine. Ye know some
av th’ engineers lave th’ woipers to look out fer breaks on th’ old
girruls.”
“Yes; I find a great many of them do that.”
“Joe Hicks is not wan av thim.”
“He inspects his own engine.”
“Yis. No woiper iver found a broken spring, leaver ur hanger on his
engine. He discovers all th’ cracked aquilizers an’ iccintric shtraps.
It’s really an aisy job cl’anin’ his engine, av ye take care to clane
it.”
“Well, I am not liable to have the job again.”
“Ye may. Ganzell is square, an’ he don’t loike to have any marn kick at
him. Av ye do it well this toime, he may kape ye roight here on this
engine ivery toime she comes in. Oi thought av thot, an’ it’s phwoy Oi
warnted to tell yez about Joe Hicks.”
“I appreciate your kindness, Larry.”
“Don’t mention it. Now, Oi’ll get to wurruk, an’ Oi’ll look 33 over
whin ye have finished.”
Then the friendly young Irishman left Frank to his labor and his
thoughts.
Merry worked slowly and carefully. He was determined to take plenty of
time on the job and make sure that everything was done as it should
be. When he thought he had finished, he went over everything again.
Then he called Larry.
“It’s all roight, me b’y,” declared the young Irishman. “It’s loike the
wurruk av an ould hand, but it’s tin to wan thot Hicks will be afther
kickin’ about it.”
“All right,” said Frank. “Let him kick. If you say the job is done all
right, I am satisfied.”
The foreman came round, but he did not give either engine or Merriwell
a glance. He had set Larry to look after the matter, and he knew it
would be all right.