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" Mr. Fairbanks."

"Why, good-morning, Mr. Slavin, but—quite formal, aren't you?" said Ralph with a smile.

It was the second day after the factory fire. Ralph and Knight, both busy at their duties, had been visited by Slavin.

He came up the ladder and into the switch tower with a certain slow dignity of manner that made Ralph stare.

"Hello, Slav," nodded old Jack Knight carelessly.

"How do you do—sir?" answered Slavin with rigid courtesy as he sank to the armchair—always a welcome visitor, nowadays.

"Bust me!" whispered Knight with a keen glance at Slavin, and suppressing a quick snicker—"what's in his crop now, Fairbanks?"

Ralph wondered, too. He stole a second furtive look at Slavin. Then he had to turn his head aside to hide a smile. Rh