Once more the instruments broke out in an almost inarticulate whirr, and
with difficulty together they picked out the words: "... sounds in the
next room ... yelling and groaning just other side partition ...
whispering at me through a knot-hole ... an eye looking at me ... stand
it any longer ... right now! G. B. (Good-by)!"
Grasping the key, the chief sent quickly, "Look here! Wait a moment! You
there?"
There was no response. Again he called, and gave it up. "No use. He's off
like the rest of them. Well, I'm not sure I blame him. There must be
something wrong. But it beats me!"
As he was about to move away the chief turned back and handed Alex a
letter. "I overlooked giving it to you when you came in," he explained.
"From Jack Orr!" said Alex with pleasure. A moment later he uttered a
second exclamation, again read a paragraph, and with a delighted "The
very thing!" hastened after the chief.
"Mr. Allen, this letter is from a friend of mine, a first class
commercial operator, who wants to get into railroad telegraphing, and who
would be just the man to send to MJ.
"He is a regular amateur detective, and has all kinds of pluck," Alex
went on, and in a few words recounted Jack's clearing up of the cash-box
mystery at Hammerton, the part he played in the breaking up of the band
of Black-Handers, and his resourcefulness when the wires were cut at
Oakton.
The chief smiled and reached for a message blank. "Thank you, Ward," he
said. "That's the man we want exactly. How soon can he come?"
"He says he could take a place with us right away, sir."
"Good. We'll have him there if possible to-morrow evening," decided the
chief, writing.
Needless to say Jack was delighted when early the following morning at
Hammerton he received the telegraphed appointment to the station at
Midway. At once resigning at the Hammerton commercial office, he hurried
home, by noon was on the train, and arrived at Midway Junction at 7
o'clock.
Entering the telegraph room, he called Exeter. "Well, here I am, Al," he
ticked, when Alex himself responded. "And I'm ever so much obliged to
you, old boy, for getting me the position."
"Don't mention it. And anyway," responded Alex, "you had better save your
thanks until you learn just what you are up against there. I didn't have
time to write--but the former man left last night, simply on the run."
And continuing, Alex explained.
"So you see, you were called in as a sort of expert."
"Hi," laughed Jack. "Well, I'll do the best I can. But probably the
'ghost' won't show up again now for a month or so?"
"On the contrary, it is more likely to return soon," clicked Alex. "That
has been the way every time so far--three or four appearances in
succession. So you had better prepare for business at once."
Alex's prediction was realized two nights later. A few minutes after the
last freight had gone north, and Jack had been left entirely alone in the
big station, he heard light footfalls outside on the platform. Going to
the window, he peered out into the darkness, and seeing nothing, turned
to the door. As he opened it the footsteps ceased.
Surprised, Jack returned and secured a lantern, and passed out and down
the long platform. From end to end it was deserted and silent.
He returned to the office. Scarcely had he closed the door when again
came the sound of footsteps.
Jack paused and listened. They were light and quick, like those of a
woman--up and down, up and down, now pausing a moment, now briskly
resuming, as though the walker was anxiously waiting for someone.
On tiptoe Jack went back to the door, suddenly flung it open and flashed
the lantern. As quickly the steps had ceased. Not a moving object was to
be seen.
Immensely puzzled, Jack withdrew, and stepped to the instrument table. As
he reached toward the telegraph key from almost directly overhead broke
out a thundering rumble, as of a heavy wooden ball bounding down the
roof.
Catching up the lantern, he once more rushed forth. Immediately, as
before, all was silence. Nervous at last, in spite of himself, Jack
hesitated, then resolutely set forth on a complete round of the station
and freight shed, throwing the lantern light upon the roof, through the
dusty windows, and into every nook and corner. Nowhere was there a sign
of life.
He returned. The moment he closed the office door the rumble broke out
afresh.
Jack sprang to the instruments, called Exeter, and sent rapidly, "Al,
that 'ghost' is here, and in spite of me, is beginning to get on my--"