IKE SLUMP AGAIN
Ralph knew at once that he had fallen into a trap of some kind. He
struggled violently, but it was of no avail. Two persons had slipped
up behind him, two pairs of hands were holding him captive.
"Who are you?" demanded the young engineer sharply, over his
shoulder.
There was no response, but he was forced forward clear back into the
shed. The front door was kicked shut. Ralph was thrown roughly among a
heap of junk. He recovered himself quickly and faced his assailants.
The light in the place was dim and uncertain. The only glazed aperture
in the shed was a small window at the rear. With considerable interest
Ralph strained his gaze in an endeavor to make out his captors. Then
in immense surprise he recognized both.
"Ike Slump and Jim Evans," he spoke aloud involuntarily.
"You call the roll," observed Evans with a sneer.
Ralph reflected rapidly. The last he had heard of this precious brace
of comrades, they had been sentenced to prison for a series of bold
thefts from the railroad company. How they had gotten free he could
not decide. He fancied that they had in some way escaped. At all
events, they were here, and the mind of the young engineer instantly
ran to one of two theories as to their plans: Either the gang at
Stanley Junction had hired them to annoy or imperil him, or Slump and
Evans were inspired by motives of personal revenge.
Ike Slump had been a trouble to Ralph when he first began his
ambitious railroad career. It was Slump who had hated him from the
start when Ralph began his apprenticeship with the Great Northern, as
related in "Ralph of the Roundhouse." Ralph had detected Slump and
others in a plot to rob the railroad company of a lot of brass journal
fittings. From that time on through nearly every stage of Ralph's
upward career, Slump had gone steadily down the easy slope of crime.
When he linked up with Evans, his superior in years and cunning, he
had several times sought revenge against Ralph, and but for the
vigilance and courage of the young engineer his life might have paid
the forfeit.
Evans acted promptly, wasting no words. He had drawn a weapon from his
pocket, and this he handed to Slump. Then he turned a fierce, lowering
visage upon Ralph.
"Fairbanks," he began, "you're to go with us--where, don't matter, nor
why. We owe you one, as you've known for a long time, and if it wasn't
that we're here for the money there is in it, and not revenge, I'd
take pleasure in balancing the months you got us in jail by crippling
you so you'd never pull another lever. This is business, though, pure
and simple. If you get hurt, you can blame yourself. You've got to go
with us."
"Why have I?" demanded Ralph.
"Because we say so. There's a man quite anxious to see you."
"Who is he?"
"That's telling. He wants to ask you just one question. A civil answer
given, and you are free as the wind. Slump, take this pistol, get up
on that pile of rails, and guard Fairbanks. If he starts to run,
shoot--understand?"
"I guess I do!" snarled the graceless Ike, climbing to the top of the
pile of rails. "When I think of what this fellow has done to down me,
it makes my blood boil."
"I'll be back with a wagon in fifteen minutes," said Evans. "You take
your medicine quietly, Fairbanks, and nobody will get hurt. Try any
capers, and blame yourself."
The speaker proceeded to the door of the shed, opened it, and closed
it after himself as if everything was settled his way. Ike Slump,
regarding the captive with a venomous expression of face, sat poising
his weapon with the manner of a person glad to have an occasion arise
that would warrant its use under the instructions given by his
partner.
Ralph summed up the situation and counted his chances. It was apparent
to him that only a bold, reckless dash could avail him. There was no
chance to pounce upon and disarm the enemy, however, and Ralph
hesitated about seeking any risks with a fellow who held him so
completely at his mercy.
"How does it seem?" jeered Ike, after a spell of silence, but Ralph
did not answer at once. He had experienced no actual fear when so
suddenly seized. Now, although he could not disregard a certain risk
and menace in the custody of two of his worst enemies, a study of the
face of the youth before him made the young railroader marvel as to
what he could find enticing in doing wrong, and he actually felt
sorrow and sympathy, instead of thinking of his own precarious
situation.
"Slump," spoke Ralph finally, "I am sorry for you."
"That so? Ho! ho! truly?" gibed the graceless Ike. "What game are you
up to? Don't try any, I warn you. You're clever, Ralph Fairbanks, but
I'm slick. You see, the tables have turned. I knew they would, some
time."
"What is it you fellows want of me, anyhow?" ventured Ralph, hoping to
induce Ike to disclose something.
"Nothing to worry about," declared Slump carelessly. "You'll soon
know. Say, though, Fairbanks, don't stir the lion, don't pull his
tail."
"You seem to be talking about menageries," observed Ralph.
"You'll think you're in one, sure enough, if you rile Evans up. He
won't stand any fooling, you hear me. Shut up, now. We'll leave
discussing things till this job is over and done with. Then I may have
something to tell you on my own personal account, see?" and Ike tried
to look very fierce and dangerous. "I'll give you something to think
of, though. You're going to tell a certain man all you know about a
certain fellow, and you're going to fix it so that the certain man
can find the certain fellow, or you don't run 999 for a time to come,
I'll bet you."
"Who is this certain man?" inquired Ralph.
"I don't know his name. He's a stranger to me."
"And who is the certain fellow?"
"I know that one--I don't mind telling you. Then shut up. You've a way
of worming things out of people, and I'm not going to help you
any--it's Marvin Clark."
"I thought it was," nodded the young engineer reflectively; and then
there was a spell of silence.
Ralph could only conjecture as to the significance of Ike's statement.
There certainly was some vivid interest that centered about the
missing son of the railroad president. That name, Marvin Clark, had
been used to lure Ralph to the old shed. Now it was again employed. It
took a far flight of fancy to discern what connection young Clark
might have with these two outcasts--worse, criminals. Ralph decided
that their only mission in any plot surrounding Clark was that of
hired intermediaries. He did not know why, but somehow he came to the
conclusion that Evans and Slump were acting in behalf of the pretended
Lord Montague. Why and wherefore he could not imagine, but he believed
that through circumstances now developing he would soon find out.
Slump shifted around on the pile of rails a good deal. They afforded
anything but a comfortable resting place. Finally he seemed to decide
that he would change his seat. He edged along with the apparent
intention of reaching a heap of spike kegs. He never, however, took
his eye away from Ralph. Ike, too, held his weapon at a continual
menace, and gave his captive no chance to act against him or run for
the door.
Near the end of the pile of rails, Ike prepared to descend backwards
to the spike kegs. He planned to do this without for an instant
relaxing his vigilance. As he reached out one foot to touch the rails,
there was an ominous grinding sound. He had thrown his weight on one
rail. The contact pushed this out of place.
Once started, the whole heap began to shift. Ralph, quite awed, saw
the pile twist out of shape, and, tumbling in their midst, was his
watcher. A scream of mortal agony rang through the old shed, and Ike
Slump landed on the floor with half a ton of rails pinioning his lower
limbs.