Ralph of the Roundhouse: or, Bound to Become a Railroad Man

"All right," said Ralph. "I'd be a friend to you if you would let me. By the way, what is your business, Slump? Ah, I see-building a raft?"

"What of it?"

"And what for?"

"Say!" cried Ike, brandishing the rod furiously and trying to intimidate his visitor with a furious demonstration, "what do you torment me for! Get out! I'm building a raft because I'm a persecuted, hunted being, driven like a rat into a hole. I want to float to safety past the towns, and go west. And I'm going to do it!"

"Why not walk?" suggested Ralph.

Ike flared a glance of dark suspicion at Ralph.

"And why such a big raft?" pursued Ralph smoothly-"no, you don't! Now then, since you've forced the issue, lie still."

Ike had suddenly sprung towards Ralph, swinging the iron rod. The latter was watching him, however. In a flash he had the bad boy disarmed, lying flat on the ground, and sat astride of him, pinioning his arms outspread at full length.

Ralph gave a sharp, clear whistle. Van came rushing down the bank in the distance in response.

Ike Slump raved like a madman. He threatened, he pleaded. He even took refuge in tears. All the time, Ralph Fairbanks was making up his mind. That partially built raft had roused his suspicions very keenly, had suggested a new line of action, and he determined to follow the promptings of his judgment.

"There's a piece of rope yonder," said Ralph, as Van approached on a run. "Get it, and help me tie this young man hand and foot."

They did the job promptly and well, Ike Slump raving worse than ever in the meanwhile.

"Now then," directed Ralph, "help me carry him to the gig. Van, this is Ike Slump, of whom you have heard a little something. He is bound he won't further the ends of justice, and I am as fully determined that at least he shall not have his liberty to frustrate them. We will load him in the gig, take him to headquarters, and you are to ask our friend there as a special favor to me to keep him safely till he hears from me."

"I won't go!" yelled the squirming Ike-"I'll have your bones for this!"

"I would advise you," said Ralph to the frantic captive, "to behave yourself. You are going where you will have good treatment. Build up, and do some thinking. I shall be as friendly to you as if you hadn't tried to brain me."

"You don't mean," said the astonished Van, "that you are going to stay behind?"

"Yes," answered Ralph, with a significant glance at Ike. "I have an idea it is my clear duty to investigate why Ike Slump built that raft."

CHAPTER XXXIV-VICTORY!

In about five minutes the arrangements were completed by Ralph and Van for the transportation of their prisoner to "headquarters."

Ike Slump, tied securely, was snugly propped up in the seat beside Van. Ralph waited until he saw them safely on their way, and then went straight back to the spot where he had discovered Ike.

A cursory view of the raft had already awakened a vivid train of thought. Now, as he looked it over more particularly, Ralph found that he had grounds for suspicions of the most promising kind.

"Ike must have been at work on this for several days," decided Ralph. "I didn't think he had so much patience and constructive ability. It's big enough to carry a house, and of course his making it, as he says, to float himself down stream to a safe distance, is sheer nonsense."

Some large logs formed the basis of the raft. Over these were nailed boards to give its bottom depth and solidity.

It was a sight of those boards that had set Ralph thinking. Such handy timber, he recognized, had no business this far from civilization. Where had they come from?

"Those two are box covers," concluded Ralph, after a close inspection, "and they are the exact size of the boxes I saw at Cohen's back room at Stanley Junction. I must find out what it does mean."

Then Ralph made a second discovery, and knew that he was distinctly on the hot trail of something of importance.

Two corners of the raft were bound with heavy brass pieces used as ornamental clamps on passenger coaches. They were stamped inside "G.N."

"Great Northern property, sure," reflected Ralph, "and of course part of the stolen plunder. That wagon load never went to or through Dover, so far as the police people have been able to find out, but I am sure it did come here, or near here, or what is Ike doing with those pieces?"

Ralph now set about tracing Ike's living quarters. They must be somewhere in the immediate vicinity.

He had little difficulty in following up a worn path across the grass. It led to a snug shakedown, under the lee of a slope roofed over with dry branches and grass.

Here Ralph found a case of canned goods, a box of crackers and a lot of tobacco and cigarette papers. On a heap of dry grass lay a wagon cushion.

Ralph circled this spot. He had to exert the ingenuity and diligence of an Indian trailer in an effort to follow the footsteps leading to and from the place in various directions. Finally he felt that his patience was about to be rewarded. For over two hundred feet the disturbed and beaten down grass showed where some object had been dragged over the ground, probably the boards used in the construction of the raft.

The trail led along the winding shore of the creek and up a continuous slope. Then abruptly it ceased, directly at the edge of a deep, verdure-choked ravine.

Ralph peered down. A gleam of red, like a wagon tongue, caught his eye. Then he made out a rounding metal rim like the tire of a wheel. He began to let himself down cautiously with the help of roots and vines. His feet finally rested on a solid box body.

An irrepressible cry of satisfaction arose from the lips of the lonely delver in the débris at the bottom of the ravine.

When Ralph clambered up again he was warm and perspiring but his eyes were bright with the influence of some stimulating discovery.

He stood still for five minutes, as if undecided just what to do, glanced at the fast-setting sun, and struck out briskly in the direction of the road leading to Dover.

It was midnight when he reached the town he had visited earlier in the same day. Ralph went straight to the police station of the place.

For about an hour he was closeted with one of the officers there whom he had met earlier on his visit in the gig. They had a spirited confidential talk.

Ralph was on railroad business now, pure and simple, for he was acting in accordance with Road Detective Matthewson's instructions and on the strength of his written authority.

"I ran catch a Midland Central train west to Osego in about an hour," he planned, as he left the police station and walked towards the depot. "There's a ten-mile cut across country on foot to Springfield, and then I am headed for Stanley Junction by daylight."

Ralph boarded the train at Springfield at about six o'clock in the morning. His pass from Matthewson won him a comfortable seat in the chair car, and he had a sound, refreshing nap by the time the 10.15 rolled into Stanley Junction.

Griscom had this run, but Ralph did not make his presence known to his sturdy engineer friend. He left the train at a crossing near home, and was soon seated at the kitchen table doing ample justice to a meal hurriedly prepared for him by his delighted mother.

Almost her first solicitous inquiry was for Van.

"Van is well and happy, mother," Ralph Answered. "Grateful, too. And, mother, he remembers 'the dear lady who sung the sweet songs.'"

"Ralph, do you mean," exclaimed Mrs. Fairbanks tremulously-"do you mean his mind has come back to him?"

"Yes, mother."

"Oh, God be praised!" murmured the widow, the tears of joy streaming down her beaming face, lifted in humble thankfulness to heaven.

Then Ralph hurriedly went over the details and results of his trip with Van Sherwin.

Later he spent half an hour at a careful toilet, and just as the town clock announced the noon hour Ralph walked into the law office of Jerome Black.