CONCLUSION
One hour after daybreak the vicinity of the snowbound Overland Express
resembled a picture, rather than a forlorn blockade.
The lone adventurers who had made the trip from the stalled freight
had been a relief party indeed. The engineer was a railroader of long
experience, and he had thought out the dilemma of the refugees. He and
his companions had broken open a freight car and had brought each a
good load. There was coffee, sugar, crackers, canned meats, a ham,
and, what was most welcome to anxious mothers and their babes, a whole
crate of condensed milk.
There never was a more jolly breakfast than that aboard the snowbound
coaches. There was plenty to eat and to spare all around, and plenty
more at the stalled freight, everybody knew. In front of the engine
many a merry jest went the rounds, as the train crews and some of the
passengers broiled pieces of succulent ham on the end of pointed
twigs.
"You see, it was this way," Archie Graham explained to the young
engineer of No. 999. "I was just watching a chance for washouts or
snowstorms to get on a train diving into the danger. Those red bombs
are my invention. I shoot them from a gun. I can send them a mile or
gauge them to go fifty feet. They ignite when they drop, and by
sending out a lot of them they are bound to land somewhere near the
train you aim at. The engineer is bound to take notice, just as you
did, of the glare, and that's where they beat the fusees and save the
running back of a brakeman."
"Archie," said Ralph honestly, "I believe you're going to hit some
real invention some time."
"I helped out some with my patent rocket signals this time," declared
Archie.
"You did, my lad," observed Fogg with enthusiasm, "and the passengers
know all about it, and they've mentioned you in a letter they're
getting up to the company saying how they appreciate the
intelligence--that's Fairbanks--the courage, ahem! that's me, and the
good-heartedness, that's all of us, of the two train crews."
By the middle of the afternoon a snow plow opened up the line from
Rockton to the stalled train. It was not until two mornings later,
however, that the main line was open and Ralph and Fogg got back to
Stanley Junction.
Archie came on the same train. Ralph asked him up to the house, but
the young inventor said he wanted the quiet of his hotel room to work
on his signal rocket idea, which he declared would amount to something
yet.
The young engineer had scarcely got in the house after the warm,
cheerful greeting of his anxious mother, when Zeph Dallas put in an
appearance.
Zeph was looking exceedingly prosperous. He wore a new, nicely-fitting
suit of clothes, a modest watch and chain, and was quite dignified and
subdued, for him.
"When you've had your breakfast, Ralph," he said, "I've got something
to tell you."
"Yes," nodded Ralph, "I'm expecting to hear a pretty long story from
you, Zeph."
The young engineer hurried his breakfast and soon joined Zeph in the
sitting-room.
"Say, Ralph," at once observed his friend, "you've done some big
things in your time, but the biggest thing you ever did was when you
saw to it that Jim Evans and Ike Slump, and most of all, that fellow,
Morris, were held as prisoners by Adair, the road detective."
"I fancied they deserved locking up," remarked Ralph.
"There would have been a murder if you hadn't seen to it," declared
Zeph. "I've a story to tell that would make your hair stand on end,
but it would take a book to tell it all."
"I'm here to listen, Zeph," intimated Ralph.
"Yes, but I'm due to meet Mr. Adair at the jail. He's sent Evans and
Slump back to the prison they escaped from. I hurried on here from the
Fordham cut purposely to tell him what I wanted done with Morris."
"I say, Zeph," rallied the young railroader, "you seem to have a big
say in such things for a small boy."
"That's all right," declared Zeph good-naturedly; "I'm all here, just
the same, and I'm here for a big purpose. In a word, not to mystify
you, Ralph, for you know only half of the story, I was hired by Marvin
Clark, the son of the Middletown & Western Railroad president, to do
all I've done, and I have been royally paid for it."
"Then you must have done something effective," observed Ralph.
"Clark thought so, anyway. I'll try and be brief and to the point, so
that you'll understand in a nutshell. You know Marvin Clark and Fred
Porter and the two Canaries?"
The young engineer nodded assentingly.
"Well, as I say, I ran across Clark accidentally in my stray
wanderings. He and a sickly boy named Ernest Gregg were living in a
fixed-over building at Fordham Spur. I seemed to be just the person
Clark was waiting for. He hired me to do some work for him. He was
planning to get the poor boy, Gregg, his rights."
"Yes, I know about that," observed Ralph.
"Then if you do, I can hurry over things. It seems that when he began
to look up Gregg's affairs, he found out that Ernest had a strange
hermit of a grandfather, named Abijah Gregg. Ernest's father was an
only son. About five years ago the old man discovered a terrible
forgery in which he was robbed of over ten thousand dollars. He had
reason to believe that Ernest's father and a man named Howard were
responsible for it. He disowned his son and all his family, and a
month later Ernest's father died, leaving his son a disowned and
homeless outcast."
"And what became of Howard?" inquired the interested Ralph.
"He disappeared. Old Gregg became soured at all humanity after that,"
narrated Zeph; "the more so because he had a profligate nephew who
turned out bad. This was the man in jail here now."
"Lord Lionel Montague--Morris?"
"Yes, Morris robbed the old man, who became afraid of him. The old man
tried to hide away from everybody. In his wanderings he picked up the
two Canaries and settled down at the lonely place at Fordham Cut. He
was very rich, partly paralyzed, and intended to leave his fortune to
the state, rather than have any relative benefit by it. Well, Marvin
Clark, the splendid, unselfish fellow, got a clew to all this. He
located old Abijah Gregg. He spent just loads of money following down
points, until he discovered that the man Howard was a broken-down
invalid in New Mexico. Clark was sick himself for a month, and that
was why Fred Porter did not hear from him."
"And later?" asked Ralph.
"I ran across Porter and brought him to the Spur about a month ago. He
is there now. Well, Clark found out positively that Ernest's father
never had a thing to do with forgery. It had been really committed by
Howard and this villain, Morris. He got in touch with Howard in New
Mexico, who was a dying man. He found him anxious to make what
reparation he could for a wicked deed. Old Gregg would not go to New
Mexico. Howard could only live where the air was just right for him.
The physicians said that if he ever went to any other climate, the
change of atmosphere would kill him. With plenty of money at his
command, Clark arranged it all. The New Mexico doctors got a tank that
held an artificial air, and Clark arranged so that Howard could come
east in a special car."
"And the first tourist car that you ran empty to the Spur?" inquired
Ralph.
"Why, we knew that Morris was trying every way to locate and annoy his
uncle. We thought that maybe he had got onto our plans about Howard.
We ran the dummy car to see if we were being watched. Don't you see,
that if Morris had succeeded in smashing the glass air tank, Howard
would have died before he could tell his story to old Mr. Gregg."
"And now?" said Ralph.
"The story has been told. Old Mr. Gregg is convinced that his son was
innocent of forgery. He will take care of his grandson and make him
his heir, and young Clark, as you see, has done a grand thing."
"Yes, indeed," assented Ralph.
"Howard will return to New Mexico with a relieved conscience. I am
going to the jail here now to see Morris. If he will agree to leave
the country and never annoy his uncle again, I will give him a certain
large sum of money, as directed by his uncle. If he doesn't, he will
be prosecuted for the forgery."
"Zeph," observed the young railroader enthusiastically, "you have
proven yourself not only a real detective, but a splendid lawyer, as
well."
"Thank you," returned Zeph, and blushed modestly; "most everybody that
gets in with you does some kind of good in the world."
It was two hours later when a messenger came to the Fairbanks home
with a letter for Ralph.
The young engineer flushed with pleasure as he read a brief
communication from the master mechanic, advising him that Mr. Robert
Grant, president of the Great Northern, was at Stanley Junction, and
wished to see him for a few minutes at the Waverly Hotel.
Ralph told his mother of the incident, and her eyes followed him
fondly and proudly as, arrayed in his best, Ralph started out to keep
his appointment.
It was a warm welcome that the young railroader received from the
great railroad magnate. Mr. Grant went over their mutual experiences
the night of the wild dash of the special from Rockton to Shelby
Junction.
"You did a most important service for the road that night, Fairbanks,"
said the railroad president; "how much, is a secret in the archives of
the company, but I can say to you confidentially that the Mountain
Division would have passed to another line if we had not acted in
time."
"I am very glad," said Ralph modestly.
"I want to acknowledge that service. I am only the president of the
road," said Mr. Grant, smiling, and Ralph smiled, too, "so being a
servant of the road, I must act under orders. I learned that, like all
thrifty young men, you had a savings account at the bank here. I have
deposited there the company's check for one thousand dollars to your
account."
"Oh, Mr. Grant----" began Ralph, but the railroad president held up
his hand to check the interruption.
"As to Fogg," went on Mr. Grant, "the road has closed up the
subscription in his behalf, by giving him sufficient to rebuild his
burned-down house."
Ralph's face was aglow with pride, pleasure and happiness.
"So, good-by for the present, Fairbanks," concluded the railroad
president, grasping Ralph's hand warmly. "There are higher places for
ambitious young men in the service of the road, as you know. I shall
not try to influence your plans, for I know that sheer merit will put
you forward when you decide to advance. As to my personal influence,
that, you know, is yours to command. For the present, however, we
should regret to see the Overland Express in other hands than those of
the youngest and the best engineer on the Great Northern."
What Mr. Grant had to say about Ralph's advancement came true a little
later, and those who care to follow our hero's future career may do so
in the next story of this series, to be called, "Ralph, the Train
Dispatcher; or, The Mystery of the Pay Car." In that volume we shall
meet many of our old friends once more, and see what our hero did when
new difficulties confronted him.
One day Ralph was surprised to receive a visit from Marvin Clark and
Fred Porter. He received them both warmly, and soon learned that Clark
had fixed up his trouble over railroad work, and with his parent, and
had secured a good position for Fred, so that the latter would no
longer need to lead a roving life.
"But I must have one more ride with you, Fairbanks," said Fred.
"And I'll go along," said the son of the railroad president.
"With pleasure!" cried Ralph. "Come on!" And he led the way to where
No. 999 stood ready for the next run.
The trip was a grand success. And here we will, for the present, at
least, say good-by to Ralph of the Overland Express.
THE END
THIS ISN'T ALL!
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THE RADIO BOYS' FIRST WIRELESS;
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RALPH IN THE SWITCH TOWER;
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RALPH ON THE ENGINE;
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RALPH ON THE OVERLAND EXPRESS;
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RALPH ON THE ARMY TRAIN;
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How big the cows and horses were, and what a roomy place to play in
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HONEY BUNCH: HER FIRST VISIT TO THE SEASHORE
Honey Bunch soon got used to the big waves and thought playing in the
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HONEY BUNCH: HER FIRST LITTLE GARDEN
It was great sport to dig and to plant with one's own little garden
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HONEY BUNCH: HER FIRST DAYS IN CAMP
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End of Project Gutenberg's Ralph on the Overland Express, by Allen Chapman