"Come and help me. We'll fix the fresh kid this time," called
the fellow in whose grip the lad was struggling.
"What's the matter, Larry? Is he too much for you?" laughed the
other man.
"He's the biggest little man I ever got my fists on. Gimme a
hand here."
"What are you going to do with him?"
"I'll show you in a minute."
"Maybe he's with the show. He's slippery enough to be
a performer."
"No such thing. And I don't care if he is. I'll teach him not
to interfere with the men. Grab hold and help me carry him."
Together they lifted the kicking, squirming, fighting boy,
carrying him on down the tracks, not putting him down until they
had reached the standpipe of a nearby water tank, where the
locomotives took on their supply of fresh water.
"Jerk that spout around!" commanded Larry, sitting down on Tucker
with a force that made the lad gasp.
"Can't reach the chain."
"Then get a pike pole, and be quick about it. The foreman will
be looking for us first thing we know. If he finds us here he'll
fire us before we get started."
"See here, Larry, what are you going to do?" demanded the
other suspiciously.
"My eyes, but you're inquisitive! Going to wash the kid down.
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