Ralph in the Switch Tower: or, Clearing the Track
Van's message to Ralph had a very encouraging tone to it. He evidently had a clew to Mrs. Davis' place of confinement, and "he had the stolen documents."
As the days went by, however, Ralph began to grow anxious, and his mother shared his worry. Ralph had told her everything concerning the rifled tin box. Mrs. Fairbanks was mainly troubled over the possible imprisonment and mistreatment of Mrs. Davis.
"The poor lady has suffered a great deal of trouble," she remarked. "Her mind was none too strong. It is wicked to torture her further, Ralph, can we do nothing to force Mr. Farrington to tell where she is?"
"He would deny having ever heard of Mrs. Davis," asserted Ralph convincedly. "Of course, if any mishap or failure comes to Van, and he doesn't report soon, I will see a lawyer and try and compel Farrington to some action. He is a shrewd, cruel man, though, mother. I am afraid our only hope is in Van, or the recapture of Slump and Bemis."
"Have they tried to find them?"
"Mr. Adair has been searching for them everywhere. He believes that Farrington assisted in their escape, and gave them a large amount of money to leave the country."
Gasper Farrington was not having a very happy time of it. Ralph decided this that morning, as he noticed the magnate pass on the other side of the street.
Farrington looked bent, old, and troubled. He had sustained a total loss at the factory fire. His tricky methods were becoming known to the public. He was losing the respect of people. This he realized, and showed it both in bearing and face.
Ralph was thinking about all this about three o'clock in the afternoon, when the depot master's messenger came up the tower ladder. He had a pocketful of mail.
"Postal card for you, Fairbanks," he said.
Ralph took the card and went to the window to inspect it. The postal was blurred over and wrinkled, back and front. It looked as if it had been posted after being wetted by snow or rain, or in some stage of its transmission had fallen into a mess of wet dirt.
Its address was clear enough. It bore a railway mail postmark. On its reverse side the letters had run with the moisture.
"From Van," said Ralph, setting himself the difficult task of deciphering the blurred lines. "I know his handwriting, and it is signed 'V.' It was written in a hurry, that looks certain. What has he to say?"
Ralph conned the imperfect message over and over. After many interruptions, at the end of fully half an hour's careful study, these were the only coherent words he could formulate from the blurred scrawl:
" – hurry-and important. Don't miss telling-Slump-Bemis-Wednesday evening-safe-bank shipment-express-found out, and special freight-sure to be there-not later-near South Dover-don't delay a minute-will soon-back at Stanley Junction."
"What is he trying to tell me?" murmured Ralph in a puzzled and anxious way, after a third and fourth reading of the perplexing message.
He finally gave up guessing what the missing links in the postal screed might be.
"One thing is certain," reflected Ralph. "Wednesday evening something is on the books. The only other definite clew is South Dover. Does he mean for me to meet him there? Does he mean that Slump and Bemis are in that neighborhood? There is something about a bank shipment, express, and special freight. That means the railroad is somehow interested. 'Don't miss,' he writes, 'don't delay.' I won't," resolved Ralph keenly. "I wouldn't dare to, with such a word from Van. He has kept mum all along. Now that he does speak out, it certainly means something important."
Ralph thought things over for another half-hour, and then made up his mind what he would do.
He consulted the train schedules. Then he explained to Knight the necessity for a brief absence from duty. Without seeing Slavin, who had been sent for some report blanks to the depot, Ralph hurried home.
He told his mother about the postal card, dressed for the trip down the road, and caught the 4.30 train. Ralph was cordially invited to a seat in the cab by his loyal old friend, Engineer Griscom.
It was nearly dusk when the train reached South Dover. The place was only a name. There was not a building within a mile of the tool sheds and water tank that marked the spot.
The train slowed up for Ralph, who jumped off. He waved his hand to Griscom in adieu, and looked all about him.
South Dover was a switching and make-up point for the accommodation of Dover freight transfers. It had a dozen sidings and spurs. Freight coming into Dover on a north destination was switched here, and made ready to be taken up by through trains.
A man on a track bicycle had just set some lights. He whirled away towards Dover as Ralph stood looking about him.
No other human being was in sight. On a near siding stood half a dozen freight cars. Over on another track, near the water tower, stood a dead freight dummy.
"I can't make out much here," reflected Ralph. "No one in sight, no indication why Van mentioned the place."
He strolled over to the dead locomotive. Its tender was full of coal. Ralph opened the furnace door. Everything was ready to kindle up, and the gauge showed a full water supply.
"I see," mused Ralph. "There is to be some switching, or a night run. I don't know how soon, though. Well, I'll hang around a bit. Something may develop."
Ralph walked down the short line of freights, casually inspecting the cars. As he came to the last one he dodged back in a very lively fashion.
Climbing up the embankment to the left were four persons. They had just emerged, it seemed, from thick underbrush lining the tracks.
Two of them were grown men-bearded, rough-looking fellows, resembling tramps.
The other two persons of the group had a prompt and distinct interest to Ralph. He at once recognized Ike Slump and Mort Bemis.
They were coming directly towards the freights. Ralph saw the danger of discovery.
The door of the car next to the last box freight was ajar.
Ralph leaped up into the car just as Ike Slump reached the top of the railroad embankment.
CHAPTER XXX-PRECIOUS FREIGHT
"Here we are!" almost immediately sounded out the tones of Mort Bemis.
"Glad of it," growled a gruff, breathless voice, unfamiliar to the listening Ralph. "We are about done out lugging these heavy crowbars over swamps and up this steep climb."
"Quick action, now," broke in Slump. "Here, give me a crowbar."
Ralph glided to the end of the box car he was in. He got near its little rear grated window.
Cautiously he looked out. Standing at the side of the track were Bemis and the two tramps. One of them held a crowbar. Another like it Ike was extending between the bumpers. He knocked up the coupling pin connecting the rear car with the rest of the train.
Then he pried against the head of the pin, and forced it out. As it fell to the roadbed, he said:
"Watch up and down the tracks, Mort."
"Oh, there's no likelihood of anybody coming for three hours," retorted Bemis. "The express has passed, and the signal man. The switching crew will keep snug and cozy in Hank Allen's restaurant up at Dover till schedule time, and that isn't till nine o'clock."
"Well, keep a sharp lookout, all the same," directed Ike. "I worked up this deal, and I reckon I have a right to boss the job. Come, my friend," to the tramp holding the other crowbar. "Pry on that left wheel. I'll take the right. Soon as we get momentum, you two give us a shoulder. Push, till I say let go. Understand?"
Ralph was momentarily bewildered. The quartette were about to separate the last car from the train. Why?
Ike and his helper got their crowbars each under a wheel. They budged the car, and got it fairly started. Then they yelled to the other two, and, dropping the crowbars, joined them in pushing the car along by sheer shoulder strength.
Ralph stared after them in doubt and concern. Then as they took a switch with rusted rails, he clearly saw their object.
The wheels of the detached freight car, striking a sharp slant, ran away from the persons who had started it up.
They stood still, gazing after the runaway. It moved on with sharpening speed, took a curve, and was shut out from view.
For fully two minutes afterwards, however, Ralph could catch the diminishing clatter of the fast revolving wheels. The others stood listening, too.
It was fairly dusk now. As the quartette approached the remaining cars, Ralph noticed that Mort Bemis was chuckling. Ike Slump's face wore an expression of intense satisfaction. They all halted as they reached the stationary freights.
"Here," spoke Ike, "we don't need those any longer."
He seized the crowbars in turn lying on the roadbed. He gave them a swing, sending them in among the long grass at the side of the embankment.
"Done quite neatly," spoke Bemis. "Now then, fellows-back the way we came. Horse and wagon all ready?"
"Yes," assented one of the tramps.
"Make it lively, then. We can get around to the switch off where that car has come to a stop, in about an hour."
"Then for the safe, and a fortune apiece!" cried Ike excitedly. "Say, Mort, the five hundred we lost on the races looks a fleabite to what we'll divide up in the next two hours!"
"I don't see why you didn't drive right up here and dump the safe?" suggested one of the men of the party.
"Don't you?" spoke Ike. "Well, you'd have a fine time, driving over, that boggy waste, wouldn't you? Besides, that spur is never used. No chance of any meddlers where that car is now. The train crew won't be here till nine o'clock. When they do come, even if they miss the car, they won't suspect where it has gone to."
"Correct," assented Mort Bemis in a jubilant tone. "Oh, we're working on greased rollers! Come, let's go around for the horse and wagon, and get that safe in our claws."
The quartette descended the embankment and disappeared from view. Ralph jumped from the car the moment they were out of sight.
In the light of the overheard conversation and recent doings of Slump and his companions, the young leverman was pretty well able to conjecture what they were doing.
Van's blurred message grew clearer now. Ralph doubted not but that Slump and Bemis had projected and were carrying out a daring robbery.
According to what they had said, the detached car had aboard some very valuable freight: nothing less than a safe. And Ike had intimated that it contained "a fortune apiece."
This seemed incredible to Ralph. All the same, he realized that they had isolated the car to loot it.
"In an hour they will have their booty," he reflected rapidly. "Can I foot it to Dover in time? No way to wire. Why, I'll do it!"
A quick idea came into Ralph's mind. He would anticipate the robbers. He ran fast as he could to the locomotive on the siding.
Ralph Fairbanks never valued his practical roundhouse experience so greatly as during the ensuing fifteen minutes.
He knew all about a locomotive, for he had been a shop hand to some profit. He lit the fire, set the steam gauges, piled on the coal. Steam up, he backed towards the spur, stopped, opened a switch, and glided west after the runaway car.
As he rounded a curve he noticed that the spur had two tracks, and he had by chance taken the outer one.
The tracks ran parallel, however. There must be switches further on, he decided, and he put on a fair head of steam and sped on his way.
The spur ran in and out a hilly district with numerous curves. At length there was a level stretch. Ralph whizzed by the detached car, standing stationary at the end of a steep grade about a quarter of a mile from the main rails where it had been started.
He took a new curve, slowed up, and began looking for a switch. The tracks ended near a dismantled ruin. It had evidently once been in use as a factory, but now, like the spur tracks, was abandoned.
At this terminus were several switches. Ralph got righted on the inside rails and started back for the detached car.
There were as many as four curves to pass, all breasting elevations at the side. Ralph proceeded rather slowly. As he reached the final open stretch, however, his hand came down sharply on the lever.
He pulled the throttle open. A glance had warned him that there was no time now to dally.
It was not quite dark yet. Some lanterns were now at the side of the detached car.
Near it was a horse and wagon. The side door of the car was open. One of the tramps was carrying a rope from the wagon. The other was just climbing into the car.
Ralph drove the locomotive forward so promptly that the alarmed shout of the man coming from the wagon was mingled with a resounding crash, as the bulkheads of the cow-catcher struck the end of the car. The freight was momentarily lifted from its trucks. Then car and engine swept on.
The tramp, just climbing into the car when the contact came, was knocked free of his hold by the shock. He went keeling over and over in the gravel by the side of the track.
From the inside of the car sounded loud and fervent yells. Ralph kept his eye fixed on the side of the freight. A head was thrust out-two of them.
Staring back in startled wonder, Ike Slump and Mort Bemis saw what had happened, and marvelled.
They did not attempt to jump. Ralph believed that they recognized him. Whether this were true or not, just as the locomotive reached the main road bed a report rang out. A bullet smashed in the front window of the cab.
Ralph dodged down. His enemies were driven to desperate straits. He held back from the window out of range, but kept his hand firmly on the lever.
A glance showed what he was running into. The stationary freights blocked his course. Ralph slowed up. Then, as the expected contact came, he put on full steam again.
A momentary halt had given Bemis a chance to leave the detached car in safety. As the locomotive glided by he grabbed at its step.
Ralph threw out one foot. It met Mort's jaw, and sent him spinning clear of his hold.
The locomotive was now pushing the entire train. Ralph's heart began to beat fast. He dared not stop, for Slump was probably armed, and his confederates might come in pursuit.
Ralph did not know what he might run into, or what might run into him. He was a "wild" of the most reckless description. It was make or break for Dover, now!
"He's jumped!" exclaimed Ralph.
A dark form, that of Ike Slump, leaped from the car ahead as it passed a morass. Ralph ventured to lean out of the cab window.
He could make out the nearing lights of Dover. Glancing back, he saw by the signals that the tracks were clear for the regular service.
Toot-toot-too-oot-too-oot!
Far and wide rang the ear-splitting alarm signal. Ralph kept it up continuously. Then, as he neared the crossings tower lights at Dover, he shut off steam and jolted down to a dead stop.
Glancing back and ahead, he saw the signals change in a flash, blocking all rails.
A lantern moved down the tracks. Two men came running towards the freights and along them till they reached the locomotive.
One of the men was evidently the head towerman. He glared wildly up at Ralph.
"What in thunder is this?" he cried.
"Why, you may call it a special," answered Ralph promptly.
"Special?" roared the irate towerman-"special what?"
"A special treasure train, I would call it, from what I learn," said Ralph coolly. "I have just run it clear of four robbers, and I understand it has 'four fortunes' in it."
CHAPTER XXXI-HALF A MILLION DOLLARS
"Name?"
"Fairbanks."
"Ah, I have heard of you. Towerman at Stanley Junction-first name Ralph?"
"Yes, sir."
"Wasn't it you who made that terrifically heroic run through the fire at the Acton freight yards with engineer John Griscom?"
"I was there, yes," admitted Ralph modestly.
"Thought so. Shake. Proud to know you, Mr. Fairbanks, and glad to see you are keeping your name clean and bright on the railroad roll of honor."
"Thank you."
Ralph sat in the room of the assistant superintendent at Dover, an hour after taking the special into safety. He had made a brief explanation to the towerman. The freights were sidetracked, a dozen watchmen guarded the cars, as many specials were sent back to South Dover to attempt the capture of the robbers.
"Here," spoke the assistant superintendent, summoning a messenger, "take that wire for Stanley Junction. Fairbanks, do you happen to know that you have done an amazing thing?"
Ralph shook his head with an uncertain smile.
"Well, you have. I have wired the Junction that you can't go back to-night."
"But my leave of absence was only temporary."
"Don't let that disturb you at all," said the assistant superintendent. "The road needs you here at present. I fancy the road will be very likely to acknowledge your services of to-night. You have prevented the theft of half a million dollars."
Ralph started at this monstrous statement. It seemed incredible.
"That is right. The real owner of the sum will probably give you a bank calendar free, or sue the Great Northern for delay. All the same, the road feels its obligation to you, and I want you to know it. You will have to stay here till we get this matter straightened out. You see, you are the only person who can identify those robbers-if they are caught. You will stay at my home to-night."
The assistant superintendent then went over the entire matter in detail, and Ralph heard an interesting story.
A parsimonious country banker-who seemed to be a sort of second edition of Gasper Farrington-had decided to move his bank from its original location to a point two hundred miles distant.
Too niggardly to purchase the security of his money by sending it by express, he had put it and his securities in a small safe. This he had boxed up, and had shipped it by special freight as merchandise.
How Slump and Bemis had got wind of the proceeding, Ralph could only theorize. They had certainly planned well to make off with this magnificent booty.
How Van Sherwin had been able to send the intimation he had to Ralph, was yet to be explained.
The railroad official treated Ralph like a prince. Both of the tramps were captured and placed in jail. They claimed they had simply been hired by Slump and Bemis to work for them.
The next morning the banker who had so nearly lost his banking capital arrived in hot haste.
He proceeded to express his precious belongings the rest of the way-for which the express company proceeded to charge him as strong as the case would stand.
"Ha, hum," this individual observed, as he shook Ralph's hand-"a slight-ha, hum-testimonial. Don't mention it!"
Ralph exhibited a dollar bill to the curious and furious assistant superintendent as the banker withdrew. Then he handed it to the messenger, with the remark:
"You take your own risk in trying to pass it!"
Just before noon Ralph was given a telegram from Stanley Junction, signed by Slavin.
It read:
"Hear you are at Dover, so I will wire. Needed in S.J. V.S. and Mrs. D. here, G.F. in a panic. Quick action needed. Come."
Ralph told the assistant superintendent of the urgent message.
"Of course you must go," said the latter, "but you will have to come down and identify the two prisoners in court in a day or two. By the way, we have sent a full report of the case to headquarters. I would suggest, Fairbanks, if you are tired of tower service, you won't have to ask for promotion."
"Not tired of it, sir," explained Ralph, "only anxious to get higher up the ladder as fast as I can."
"Very good. You've earned a good boost this time," declared the assistant superintendent.
Ralph reached Stanley Junction just after dark. He left the train at the limits and took a short rut home.
The front of the little cottage was aglow with cheerful light, and he knew there was "company."
Ralph burst in upon his good friend, Van, with a boisterous welcome. More gently, but none the less sincerely, he greeted Mrs. Davis. She sat in a comfortable armchair, rather pale and feeble-looking, but smiling through her happy tears.
Young Slavin occupied a humble seat at one side of the room.
"Lawyer made me come," he whispered to Ralph, – "waiting for him now."
"What lawyer?" inquired Ralph in surprise.
"One Van got. Oh, he's been running all the switches this afternoon, I can tell you!"
Just there Van beckoned to Ralph, and led him into an adjoining room, closing the door on the others.
CHAPTER XXXII-CONCLUSION
"You had best know just how things stand," remarked Van Sherwin, as he proceeded to tell an interesting story.
Van had learned from Ralph's note sent to him to the town jail that Ike Slump or Mort Bemis had the documents stolen from Mrs. Davis' little tin box.
He had watched his fellow prisoners closely, finally discovering that the papers were carried by Slump in a secret inner coat pocket.
The very night that Slump and Bemis escaped, Van with a window pole reached into the cell, got the garment in question, and left his own coat in its place.
He secured the stolen documents. Folded in with them was a receipt for somebody's board at a place called Millville. Van decided that this was the place where Mrs. Davis was imprisoned, or detained.
He intended to gain his freedom in the morning early. In the meantime, as the reader is aware, Slump and Bemis escaped. The former was probably unaware in the darkness that he was wearing Van's coat instead of his own.
Van started forthwith to locate Mrs. Davis. He found there were two Millvilles, and it was several days before he settled down on the right one. It took several more to locate Mrs. Davis' present guardians.
They proved to be a wretched couple in an isolated farmhouse. They kept their prisoner in a barred attic room.
Mrs. Davis had missed a paper which told where the tin box was secreted. This her jailers had probably given to Slump, who thus obtained a clew as to the whereabouts of the documents.
Van managed to rescue Mrs. Davis without being discovered by her guardians. That very day he came upon Slump and Bemis near the old farmhouse.
He secreted himself and overheard some of their conversation. They had squandered all of their ready money, and dared not return to Stanley Junction. They had come to the farmhouse to remove Mrs. Davis, and with her in their hands blackmail Farrington afresh.
They had discovered her escape, and then they talked of a last desperate scheme. It was to "hold up" something or somebody at South Dover.
Van could not leave Mrs. Davis, to follow or pursue them. He wrote the hurried postal to Ralph that had got wet and blurred in transmission, but, despite which fact, Ralph had managed to utilize with such grand results.
Mrs. Davis' secret was a simple one. As has been said, her husband was none other than Van's adopted father, Farwell Gibson, who had been fleeced by Gasper Farrington along with Ralph's own father.
The magnate had maligned Gibson so that Mrs. Gibson left him. They became strangers, and later Farrington claimed he was dead.
Mrs. Gibson, or Mrs. Davis as she now called herself, became quite poor. She discovered among some old papers an agreement between herself, Mr. Fairbanks, and Gasper Farrington about the twenty thousand dollars' worth of railroad bonds.
This document showed plainly that in equity she had a quarter interest, and Mrs. Fairbanks the balance in these bonds really held in trust by Farrington.
She had come to Stanley Junction to sell this paper to Farrington. Embittered by her sad past, she had no thoughts of the rights of others, until Ralph did her a kindly act and changed all the motives of her life.
Now, after learning from Van how her husband had been wronged and misrepresented by Farrington, she longed to secure her five thousand dollars to assist him in beginning his short-line railroad.
"There will be a happy reunion," Van told Ralph. "As to the money, the twenty thousand dollars, I have had a lawyer working on her claim and yours all day long. They say that Slump wrote a letter to some friend here, telling all about Farrington's dealings with him. The local paper threatens an exposé, and this, with the factory fire and our claim, has driven the miserable old schemer nearly to his wits' end. Ah, there is the lawyer now."
