THE SHORT LINE RAILWAY
Ralph attracted a good deal of attention when he arrived at Dover, and
fully realized the honor of being treated as a companion by the
president of the great railroad of which he was an employe. Mr. Grant
was pleasant and friendly. He learned Ralph's story, and discussed
railroad experience in a way that was enlightening and encouraging to
the young fireman.
"About these kidnappers," he said, "I will never give them a dollar,
but I will spend all I have to rescue my nephew. It is needless to say
that you shall be richly rewarded if you assist me successfully."
"I will do my best, sir," pledged Ralph.
At Dover they were met by Adair. They went into the depot and sat down
on a bench in a remote corner.
"I have not discovered the kidnappers nor the faintest clew to them,
Mr. Grant," said Adair.
The railroad president sighed deeply. He showed in his face and
manner the care and anxiety he was suffering.
"Can you suggest anything, Fairbanks?" continued Adair. "You know the
district fairly well. What is your idea about these men?"
Ralph astonished his companions by suddenly arising to his feet and
hurrying towards a boy who had just entered the depot and had taken up
a pen and a telegraph pad on the counter outside the ticket office.
It was Van Sherwin, the old-time friend of Ralph, and pleasure at
recognizing him had caused the young fireman to act on an impulse.
"Why, Van!" he cried, "I am glad to see you."
"Eh?" spoke the other. "Ralph! well, the gladness is mutual," and the
pair shook hands cordially.
"What brought you here?" asked Ralph.
"Came down from headquarters in the timber on important business,"
replied Van. "Just sending a telegram."
"Why!" almost shouted Ralph, glancing at the blank upon which his
friend had just written a name, "to Mr. Grant, to the president of the
Great Northern!"
"Yes," answered Van. "Does that startle you?"
"It does. What are you wiring him for?"
"About his nephew, Dudley Trevor."
Ralph was fairly taken off his feet, as the saying goes. He grasped
Van's arm excitedly.
"See here, Van Sherwin," he cried. "What do you know of Mr. Trevor?"
"Only that he is at our headquarters with a broken arm, and he sent me
here to wire his uncle the fact."
Ralph was delighted. He could scarcely credit the glad news. He led
Van up to the railroad president and the road detective with the
words:
"Gentlemen, I am very happy to tell you that Mr. Trevor is in safe
hands, and my friend here will explain. Van Sherwin, this is Mr.
Grant, the president of the Great Northern."
Van nodded in his crisp, off-hand way to Adair, whom he knew, and took
off his cap to his dignified companion.
His story was to his auditors most remarkable and exciting, but to Van
only the narration of a perfectly natural occurrence. Early that
morning there had come into "headquarters," as Van termed it, a young
man in an almost exhausted condition. His attire was all torn with
brambles and bushes and one arm was broken.
"He told us his name, and said that he had escaped from kidnappers.
Mr. Gibson attended to his arm, and sent me to Dover here to
telegraph to you, sir," explained Van to the railroad president.
Mr. Grant was so glad and excited he could not sit still.
"Take me to him at once!" he cried. "My dear lad, you have brought
happy news to me."
"I don't know about going to see him," said Van. "It is over twenty
miles away in the woods."
"Allow me to explain, Mr. Grant," said Adair. "Between here and Wilmer
is a wild, wooded stretch of land known as The Barrens."
"I know of it," nodded Mr. Grant. "The Great Northern once surveyed
two miles into the section, but abandoned the route as impracticable.
There are only about twenty houses in the district, and the
difficulties of clearing and grading were discouraging."
"Well," said Adair, "it appears that a man named Farwell Gibson
secured a charter to build a short line through The Barrens from
Wilmer across the desolate tract to connect with the Midland
Central."
"I heard of that, too," nodded the railroad president.
"This Gibson is an odd genius. He has been working for two years on
his scheme, terming the road the Dover & Springfield Short Line. Just
half way across The Barrens he has a house, which he calls
'headquarters.' He is an erratic hermit, and adopted this boy here,
Van Sherwin, who has been helping him. Every day, the law requires, he
must do some grading work on the prospective railroad line. This he
has done, and you would be surprised to know the progress they have
made."
"Especially lately," said Van, with sparkling eyes. "Even you, Ralph,
would be astonished. Mrs. Gibson got some money recently--five
thousand dollars from old Gasper Farrington--and we have hired a lot
of men. Oh, that railroad is going through, and don't you forget it."
"We realized our mistake after this Gibson got hold of the franchise,"
said Mr. Grant. "Once the road is built, it practically dominates
passenger and freight business north and south."
"That is right," said Van, "for it becomes a bee-line, saving twenty
to thirty miles distance, besides opening up a new district. Well,
sir, your nephew is now at our headquarters. To reach the place you
will have to get a very heavy wagon and go pretty slow and sure, for
there are no roads."
"I must go at all hazards," cried the railroad president insistently,
"and you, my friends, must accompany me," he added to Adair and
Ralph. "Why, those villains from whom my nephew escaped may undertake
to recapture him."
A little later the party, in charge of a sturdy fellow driving a
strong team of horses attached to a heavy wagon, started out under the
direction of Van Sherwin.
The district was a wild jungle, interspersed with sweeps of hill and
dales, and numerous creeks. Finally they reached a hill surmounted by
a dense grove of trees. A road led up here to a rambling log house.
Here and on the other side of the hill a ten-foot avenue was visible,
neat and clean. The brush had been cleared away, the ground leveled,
here and there some rudely cut ties set in place, and for an extended
stretch there was a presentable graded roadbed.
As they drove up to the cabin the railroad president almost forgot his
nephew from interest in his surroundings. Across the front of the
building was a sign reading: "Headquarters of the Dover & Springfield
Short Line Railroad." To the south there was a singular sight
presented. Some twenty men and boys were working on a roadbed, which
had been cut for over two miles. A telegraph wire ran from the
building over the tops of trees, and Ralph was fairly astonished at
the progress made since he had first visited Farwell Gibson in this
place.
"Come in," said Van, as Mr. Grant alighted from the wagon.
"Well, this is decidedly a railroady place," observed the president of
the Great Northern with a faint smile.
One half of the rambling place was a depot and railway offices
combined. There were benches for passengers. In one corner was a
partitioned off space, labeled: "President's Office." On the wall hung
a bunch of blank baggage checks, and there was a chart of a zigzag
railway line, indicating bridges, water tanks and switch towers.
"Mr. Gibson," called out Van to a man seated at a desk, "this is Mr.
Grant, the president of the Great Northern."
"Eh? what! My dear sir, I am glad to see you," said the eccentric
hermit. "You came about your nephew, I presume? Take the gentleman to
his room, Van," directed Farwell. "I am something of a doctor and he
is resting quite comfortably."
Mr. Gibson greeted Ralph very cordially. When Van returned, he
insisted on the young fireman inspecting the work on the railroad.
"Does that look like business?" he inquired, as they proceeded down
the roadbed. "We have ten men and eight boys working for us."
"Eight boys--where did they come from?" inquired Ralph.
"An orphan asylum burned down and we engaged to care for them,"
replied Van.
"But what are they doing in those trees?"
"Stringing a telegraph wire. We expect within a month to have the
telegraph through to Springfield, and later to Dover."
"Why, Van," said Ralph, "it seems incredible, the progress you have
made."
"That five thousand dollars we made old Farrington pay Mrs. Gibson was
a great help," replied Van. "We have quite a construction crew here
now. I help Mrs. Gibson do the cooking, and we get on famously."
Mr. Grant was with his nephew for over an hour. Then Ralph was sent
for, and Trevor welcomed him with a glad smile. The young man
described how he had been taken to a lonely building in the woods, how
he had escaped from his enemies, breaking his arm in a runaway flight,
and telling Ralph that he intended to remain where he was for a month,
to which his uncle had agreed.
"Confidentially, Fairbanks," he said, "I have taken a great interest
in this Short Cut Railroad scheme, and as soon as I am well I am
coming to see you at Stanley Junction."
"Regarding this railroad?" inquired Ralph.
"Exactly," responded Trevor. "I see a great future in it. I shall not
go to Europe. There is a practical business chance here, and I intend
to help Mr. Gibson get the enterprise through."
"It will take a lot of money," suggested Ralph.
"Yes," assented Trevor, "and I know how to raise it. In fact, I have
almost agreed to market one hundred thousand dollars' worth of bonds
of the Dover & Springfield Short Line Railroad, and I want you to help
me do it."