DANGER SIGNALS
The danger seemed gone, with the passage of the whirling object on
wheels that had so narrowly grazed the young railroader, but mystery and
vagueness remained in its trail.
"What was it?" Ralph heard one of his late assailants ask.
"A hand car," was the prompt reply. "She must have struck somebody. Did
you hear that yell?"
"Yes--run for it. We don't know what may have happened, and we don't
want to be caught here if anybody comes to find out what is up."
Ralph was in no condition to follow the fugitives. For a moment he stood
trying to rally his scattered senses. The situation was a puzzling and
distrustful one. Abruptly he crouched against the wall of the tunnel.
"The hand car," he breathed--"it is coming back!"
As if to emphasize this discovery, a second time and surely nearing him
that alarming cry of fright rang out. Again reversed, the hand car
whizzed by him. Then in less than twenty seconds it shot forward in the
opposite direction once more. Twice it thus passed him, and on each
occasion more slowly, and Ralph was able to reason out what was going
on.
The hand car was unguided. Someone was aboard, however, but helpless or
unable to operate it. Unmistakable demonstrations of its occupancy were
furnished in the repetition of the cries that had at first pierced the
air, though less frenzied and vivid now than at the start.
Finally seeking and finding the dead level at the exact centre of the
tunnel, the hand car appeared to have come to a stop. Ralph shook
himself together and proceeded for some little distance forward. He was
guided by the sound of low wailings and sobs. He landed finally against
the end of the hand car.
"Hello, there!" he challenged.
"O--oh! who is it?" was blubbered out wildly. "O--oh, mister! I did not
do it. Teddy Nolan gave it a shove, and away it went--boo-hoo!"
Ralph read the enigma promptly. Mischievous boys at play beyond the
north end of the tunnel had been responsible for the sensational descent
of the hand car. He groped about it now and discovered a tiny form
clinging to the boxed-up gearing in the centre of the car.
"You stay right still where you are," ordered Ralph, as he located the
handles of the car and began pumping for speed.
"Oh, yes, sir, I will."
"It's probably too late to think of heading off or overtaking those
fellows," decided Ralph, "but I've got to get this hand car out of
harm's way."
It was no easy work, single handed working the car up the slant, but
Ralph made it finally. He found a watchman dozing in the little shanty
near the entrance to the tunnel. The man was oblivious to the fact of
the hand car episode, and of course the same as to the two men who had
doubtless long since escaped from the tunnel and were now safe from
pursuit. Ralph did not waste any time questioning him. As he was
ditching the hand car the ragged urchin who had made a slide for life
into the tunnel took to his heels and scampered away.
The young railroader thought next of the paymaster. Ralph made a sharp
run of it on foot through the tunnel. He did not find Mr. Little where
he had left him, but came across him sitting on a bench at the first
flagman's crossing, evidently patiently waiting for his return.
"Well, what luck," challenged Mr. Little.
"None at all," reported Ralph, and recited the events of the past
fifteen or twenty minutes.
"That's pretty lively going," commented Mr. Little, looking Ralph over
with an approving and interested glance. "I managed to limp this far.
I've wrenched my foot. I don't think it amounts to much, but it is quite
painful. I'll rest here a bit and see if it doesn't mend."
"Shall I help you to the house, Mr. Little?" suggested Ralph.
"Maybe--a little later. I want to know about this business first--the
smashed window and those burglars. Come, sit down here on the bench with
me and tell me all about it, Fairbanks."
"They are not burglars," asserted Ralph.
"What are they, then?"
"What I hurriedly hinted to you some time back--spies."
"Spies?"
"Yes."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I had better tell you the whole story, Mr. Little."
"That's it, Fairbanks."
Ralph began with the queer-acting trio who had first attracted his
suspicions several days previous. He did not leave out the details of
his interview with the assistant superintendent at Rockton.
"Why, Fairbanks," exclaimed the paymaster, arising to his feet in
positive excitement, "this is a pretty serious business."
"It strikes me that way, sir."
"If these two men were not incidental burglars, and nothing is missing
at the house, they were after information."
"Instead of booty, exactly," responded Ralph, in a tone of conviction.
"And if that is true," continued the paymaster, still more wrought up,
"they show a system of operation that means some big design in their
mind. Give me the help of your shoulder, Fairbanks. I've got to get to
the house and to my telephone right away."
A detour of the walled-in runway was necessary in order that they might
reach Mr. Little's home. The paymaster limped painfully. Ralph himself
winced under the weight of his hand placed upon his shoulder, but he
made no complaint. His right arm was growing stiff and the fingers of
that hand he had noticed were covered with blood.
By the time they reached the paymaster's home, his family had returned.
Mr. Little led Ralph at once to the library and sank into his armchair
at the desk.
"Why," he exclaimed after a glance at Ralph, "you are hurt, too."
"Oh, a mere trifle," declared the young engineer with apparent
carelessness.
"No, it's something serious--worth attending to right away," insisted
the paymaster, and he called to his wife, introduced Ralph, and Mrs.
Little led him out to the kitchen.
In true motherly fashion she seated him on a splint bottomed chair at
the sink, got a basin of hot water and some towels, some lint and a
bottle of liniment, and proceeded to attend to his needs like an expert
surgeon.
Where Ralph's hand had swept the steel rail when his assailant in the
tunnel had knocked him off his footing, one arm had doubled up under
him, his fingers sweeping a bunch of metal splinters. These had
criss-crossed the entire back of his hand. Once mended up, Ralph was
most solicitous, however, to work his arm freely, fearing a wrench or
injury that might temporarily disable him from road duty.
"I've got the superintendent over the 'phone," said Mr. Little, as Ralph
reentered the library. "He's due at an important lodge meeting, and
can't get here until after nine o'clock. See here, Fairbanks," with a
glance at the injured hand which Ralph kept to his side in an awkward
way, "you'd better get home and put that arm in a sling."
"I think myself I'd better have a look at it," acknowledged Ralph. "It
feels pretty sore around the shoulder."
"You have a telephone at your house?" inquired the paymaster.
"Yes, sir."
"I may want to call you up. If I don't, I feel pretty sure the
superintendent will, when we have talked over affairs."
Mr. Little insisted on his hired man hitching up the family horse to
drive Ralph home. Mrs. Fairbanks at a glance read pain and discomfort in
her son's face as he entered the sitting room. Ralph set her fears at
rest with a hasty explanation. Then after resting a little he told her
all about his adventures of the evening.
"It seems as if a railroader must take a double risk all the time," she
said in a somewhat regretful tone.
"It's a part of the business to take things as they come, mother,"
observed Ralph. "It's a fight nowadays in every line where there is
progress. The Great Northern is in the right, and will win, and it is my
duty to help in the battle."
When he came to look over his injured arm Ralph found a pretty bad
bruise near the shoulder. His mother declared that it would need
attention for some days to come.
"By which you mean, I suppose," remarked Ralph with a smile, "that you
want to coddle me off duty. Can't be done, mother. I must stay on deck
as long as I can pull a lever. Ouch!"
Ralph winced as he happened to give his arm a twist.
"You may change your mind by morning, my son," observed Mrs. Fairbanks,
with a slight motherly triumph in her tone.
When Ralph arose the next day he remembered those words. His arm was so
stiff he could scarcely bend it at the elbow, and his hand was badly
swollen. He had just finished breakfast when there came a ring at the
telephone, which Ralph answered.
"That you, Fairbanks?" sounded the voice of the paymaster.
"Yes, Mr. Little."
"How is that arm of yours this morning?"
"Not quite as well as I would like it to be."
"I called you up to tell you that you will probably hear from the
general superintendent this forenoon," continued Mr. Little.
"About last night's affair I suppose?"
"In a line with that, yes. He was with me for over three hours last
night, and he's pretty well stirred up. Your injured arm will be a good
excuse for canceling your run for a few days."
"But I have no idea of canceling my run," declared Ralph. "I'll have
that arm in working shape when the Overland pulls out today."
"I'm giving you a hint, that's all," answered the paymaster. "I feel
pretty sure the superintendent intends to schedule you for special
duty."