Ralph on the Engine: or, The Young Fireman of the Limited Mail

“You see, it is a long time since the car disappeared,” said Ralph, “and we may not be able to find any trace of it. The car finder, in his investigations, must have heard of this wreck. Still, as you say, it is worth following up the clew, and that is why I got a leave from work for the afternoon.”

“Hello,” said Zeph, looking in among the bushes abruptly, “some one in there? No, I don’t see anybody now, but there was a rustling there a minute or two ago.”

“Some bird or animal, probably,” said Ralph. “Come on, Zeph, we will go to the bridge and start on our investigations.”

The river near Wilmer was a broad stream. It was quite deep and had a swift current. The boys started down one bank, conversing and watching out. Ralph laughed humorously after a while.

“I fancy this is a kind of a blind hunt, Zeph,” he said. “We certainly cannot expect to find that car lying around loose.”

“Well, hardly, but we might find out where it went to if we go far enough,” declared Zeph. “I tell you, I shall never give it up now if I have to go clear to the end of this river.”

They kept on until quite late in the afternoon, but made no discoveries. They passed a little settlement and went some distance beyond it. Then Ralph decided to return to the railroad camp.

“All right,” said Zeph, “only I quit work to-morrow.”

“What for?”

“To find that car. I say, I’m thirsty. Let us get a drink of water at that old farm house yonder.”

They went to the place in question and were drinking from the well bucket when the apparent owner of the place approached them.

“Won’t you have a cup or a glass, my lads?” he inquired kindly.

“Oh, no, this is all right,” said Ralph.

“On a tramp, are you?” continued the farmer, evidently glad to have someone to talk to.

“In a way, yes,” answered Ralph, and then, a sudden idea struck him, he added: “By the way, you are an old resident here, I suppose?”

“Forty years or more.”

“Do you happen to remember anything of a wreck at the bridge at Wilmer about five years ago?”

“Let me see,” mused the man. “That was the time of the big freshet. Yes, I do remember it faintly. It’s the freshet I remember most though. Enough timber floated by here to build a barn. See that old shed yonder?” and he pointed to a low structure. “Well, I built that out of timber I fished ashore. Lumber yard beyond Wilmer floated into the creek, and all of us along here got some of it.”

“What do you know about the wreck?” asked Ralph.

“Heard about it at the time, that’s all. Sort of connect the freshet with it. That was a great washout,” continued the farmer. “Even sheds and chicken coops floated by. And say, a box car, too.”

“Oh,” cried Zeph, with a start as if he was shot.

“Indeed?” said Ralph, with a suppressed quiver of excitement in his tone.

“Yes. It went whirling by, big and heavy as it was.”

“Say, Mister, you don’t know where that car went to, do you?” inquired Zeph anxiously.

“Yes, I do. I know right where it is now.”

“You do?”

“Yes, old Jabez Kane, ten miles down the creek, got it. He is using it now for a tool shed.”

“Oh!” again cried Zeph, trembling with suspense and hope.

Ralph nudged him to be quiet. He asked a few more questions of the farmer and they left the place.

“Ralph,” cried Zeph wildly, “we’ve found it!”

“Maybe not,” answered the young fireman. “It may not be the same car.”

“But you’re going to find out?”

“It’s pretty late. We had better make a day of it to-morrow.”

“All right, if we can’t attend to it to-day,” said Zeph disappointedly; and then both returned to camp.

Next morning early both started for the creek again. By proceeding across the country diagonally, they saved some distance.

It was about noon when they approached a rickety, old farmhouse which a man had told them belonged to Jabez Kane.

“There it is, there it is,” cried Zeph, as they neared it.

“Yes, there is an old box car in the yard near the creek, sure enough,” said Ralph.

They entered the farm yard. The box of the car they looked at sat flat on the ground. It had been whitewashed several times, it appeared, so they could trace no markings on it. They approached it and stood looking it over when a man came out of the house near by.

“Hey,” he hailed, advancing upon them. “What you trespassing for?”

“Are we?” inquired Ralph, with a pleasant smile. “We mean no harm.”

“Dunno about that,” said the farmer suspiciously. “Was you here last night?”

“Oh, no,” answered Ralph.

“Well, what do you want?”

“I was sort of interested in this old car,” announced Ralph.

“Why so?” demanded Kane.

“Well, we are looking for a car that floated down the creek here about five years ago.”

“For the railroad?” asked the farmer.

“In a way, yes, in a way, no.”

“Does the railroad want to take it away from me?”