Ralph, The Train Dispatcher Part 29

"Yes, indeed," said Ralph reflectively.

His guide went with him until they came to the factory. Here he left Ralph, saying he was almost starved and must get a good meal.

The factory was a grim-looking, isolated, one-story stone building. One end was rounded with brick and had heavy iron shutters. The front was a kind of office. Behind it was an iron part.i.tion and a windowless stretch of factory room fully fifty feet in length.

Ralph tried the front door and found it locked. In a minute or two, however, a big, stalwart man with a face of considerable character came from the inner room. He did not open the door, but stood at a window and called out:

"What do you want?"

"Are you Mr. Bartlett?" inquired Ralph.

"That's me."

"I am a friend to Mr. Glidden, and I come here from his lawyer."

"Where's the proof of it? I don't know you," said Bartlett guardedly.

"That's so," said Ralph, "and I am glad to find you so particular. My name is Fairbanks, and I come from the brother of Mr. Glidden, at Stanley Junction. I have a good deal to tell you, and wish you would come out and talk with me or let me in to talk to you."

"You say the lawyer knows you?" inquired Bartlett warily.

"No, he doesn't, but his wife does."

"We'll see about that--wait a minute."

Ralph was made aware of the fact that the factory connected with the town by telephone, as the foreman of the plant proceeded to an instrument and took down the receiver. He could not hear the conversation that ensued, but very shortly Bartlett came to the door and invited him in.

"You're all right, and you're bringing some mighty good news, I hear,"

he said heartily. "Sit down. I fancy that blatherskite, Dorsett, won't sail so high tomorrow."

"I fancy not, if things are done straight," said Ralph, "but I just learned something that worries me a good deal."

"What is that?"

Ralph told his story in detail. He recited what his tramp acquaintance had imparted to him. The st.u.r.dy foreman knit his brows, but he did not scare a bit. He walked slowly over to a closet, took out a new Winchester rifle, laid it across the top of the desk, and said quietly:

"I've got orders to admit no one here without an order from the lawyer up to ten o'clock tomorrow morning. The man who gets in before that time on any other conditions will be a dandy, I can tell you that."

Ralph requested permission to use the telephone. He got in communication with the lawyer's wife and told her of his new discoveries. Her husband had not yet returned, but as soon as he appeared she told Ralph she would send him up to the plant. Ralph informed her that he would not leave the factory until he heard from the lawyer.

It was getting dusk when a small boy came to the office door. He carried a basket and a note, which, after due challenge, Bartlett took into his possession. The lawyer's wife had sent them a steaming hot supper, and told Ralph in the note to hold the fort, as she felt certain that her husband would arrive at Derby on either the eight or ten o'clock train.

Half an hour later, after they had lighted up, the foreman approached the door cautiously as some one else knocked at it.

"Who's there?" he demanded.

"No one you know. The young fellow in there knows me, though. Tell him to look out of the window."

Ralph pulled aside the shade and peered out, recognizing his tramp acquaintance of the afternoon.

"It's the man who told me about this plot of Dorsett's," he said.

"One of the same gang, eh? I dunno," remarked Bartlett dubiously. "Ain't he a dangerous customer to let inside here?"

"He seems friendly, and he may have something more to tell us,"

responded Ralph. "I hardly think we'll take much risk admitting him."

"Well, it's just as you say, then."

"Yes, let him in," directed Ralph.

He regarded his tramp friend with some surprise and curiosity as the foreman admitted him. The man had got a clean shave and his face patched up, and apparently had a very satisfactory meal inside of him, for he was blandly cheerful and complacent.

"Saw three of our friends on my way here," he said to Ralph.

"You mean Dorsett's friends?"

"Yes. Two of them were down by the turnpike, probably watching to see if the lawyer or others might come here. The other fellow I spied hanging around the furnace room. He was on the roof once, but he just sneaked away."

"What did you come here for?" inquired Bartlett bluntly.

"Oh, I took a kind of fancy to this young fellow. He did me a kind turn, and I'd like to return the compliment. Thought maybe there might be a ruction later, and if there is, I'm on your side. So count on me."

With a grin and chuckle the speaker bunched up a fist that resembled a huge knot of mahogany.

"I think I had better 'phone the lawyer's wife again," suggested Ralph after a moment of thought. "Those fellows lurking around here might do the lawyer some harm."

Ralph went to the telephone. As he took down the receiver and applied it to his ear his expert knowledge of telegraphy gave him a quick intuition.

"h.e.l.lo," he said, "we're off the circuit. Worse than that--the instrument is dead."

"Is that so?" said the tramp. "Then it explains what that sneaking fellow was doing on the roof. They've cut the telephone wires."

CHAPTER XXIII

ONE MINUTE AFTER TWELVE

The young railroader of Stanley Junction realized that he had a.s.sumed no ordinary risk or responsibility in acting the role of a trusted messenger in behalf of the old telegrapher in the train dispatcher's office at headquarters.

The situation at Derby had become an exciting and a critical one. Here was Ralph, the factory foreman and this tramp acquaintance cut off from the town, isolated in a lonely spot and surrounded by desperate and dangerous men who were bent on a mission of wreck and ruin.

Bartlett looked a little blank. The tramp grinned as was his wont. He looked as if he would not be sorry to engage in the "ruction" he had talked about, to get even with his treacherous enemies.

Ralph had grown a trifle uneasy. If the lawyer did not put in an appearance, it was difficult to foresee how affairs would turn out. He did not rely much on Bartlett's Winchester or the brawny fists of the tramp. The young train dispatcher had seen some pretty sharp and definite work done in the name of the law during a railroad strike, and from what he had heard of Dorsett he did not believe he would make a raid on the plant until he was very certain of successfully carrying out his wicked plans.