Ralph on the Engine Part 21

"And you, Zeph?" said Ralph, turning to the farmer boy.

Zeph had been strangely silent. He appeared to be trying to look very dignified and much absorbed in thought.

"Oh, me?" he said now. "Why, I'm already at work. Commence to-night.

Call boy at the roundhouse. Old one is with the strikers. Mr. Forgan engaged me this afternoon."

"Why, that is fine," said Ralph. "A start in the right direction. Look out for the strikers, though, Zeph."

"Don't fret about me," advised Zeph. "I'm a fighter when aroused.

See, here is my list to call in the morning," and he showed Ralph a slip of paper containing about a dozen names.

Ralph read it over, and after a meal went out with Zeph and showed him the location of the homes of those named in the list.

"This job is all right," said Zeph, as they returned to the house, "but it is only a sort of side line with me."

"Indeed?" smiled Ralph, amused at the off-hand, yet self-important manner of his companion.

"Oh, yes."

"How is that?"

"Simply want to get into the service so as to have the privilege of riding around on engines when I want to. It sort of introduces me, you see."

"What do you want to ride around on engines for?" asked Ralph. "You can't afford to waste your time that way."

"Waste my time? waste my time?" repeated Zeph. "Huh, guess you don't know what you're talking about! I'm on the trail of a big fortune."

"You don't say so."

"I do. Ralph Fairbanks, I'll let you into the secret. You've been a good friend to me, and you shall help me."

"What ridiculous nonsense are you talking, Zeph?"

"You'll see whether it's nonsense or not when some day I walk in on you with a fortune. Now, this is on the dead quiet, Fairbanks?"

"Oh, sure," laughed Ralph.

"Very well. I met a fellow the other day, who is a car finder."

"Mr. Drury, you mean?" asked Ralph.

"How did you know?" questioned Zeph in surprise.

"He told me he had met you, and agreed with me that you were a pretty fair kind of a fellow."

"Did he?" said Zeph, very much pleased at the double compliment.

"Well, I got interested in his business and he finally gave me a--a--well a job, you might call it."

"Salary big, Zeph?"

"No salary at all," responded Zeph. "It's a partners.h.i.+p deal. If I find certain property, I am to have a big reward to divide with him."

"What kind of property?"

"Diamonds."

"Oh, going digging for them?"

"Don't make fun of me, Fairbanks," said Zeph in a slightly offended tone. "This is a fair and square business proposition. About five years ago a car was lost, presumably on the Great Northern. At least, it can be traced no farther than the terminus of the Midland Central, where it was switched onto this line here. There all trace of it was lost."

"Valuable freight aboard?"

"No, on the contrary, it was empty, but, all the same, between sealed boards and the rough ones a pocketbook containing a lot of valuable diamonds was hidden."

"Who by?"

"A traveling jewelry salesman named Isaacs."

"What did he hide it there for?"

"He had to. You see, he was on another railroad line and crossing some tracks when some footpads a.s.saulted him. He managed to escape and got into the empty car I told you about. Then he heard them coming to search for him, and hid the diamonds in a break of the boards at one side of the car."

"I see."

"They dragged him out, beat him into insensibility and stole all his money. He woke up in a hospital a month later, after a siege of fever.

The first thing he thought of was the diamonds and the car. He had taken particular pains to note the number of the car."

"What was it, may I ask?"

"Confidentially?"

"Of course."

"It belonged to the Southern Air Line Road, and its number was 9176."

"Why, you are telling a very interesting story," declared Ralph, now really interested in the same. "He searched for the car, of course?"

"At once. He telegraphed everywhere; he advertised; he employed detectives. It was no use. During the month of his illness, car No.

9176 had disappeared."

"That looks mysterious."

"The car finder says not at all. Such things happen frequently. But it went somewhere, didn't it? It may be lying on some old siding, in some creek after a wreck, stolen by gravel pit men, or in service still on some line. One thing is sure, if in existence still, it must be on one of four railroad lines, and the Great Northern is one of those roads."

"What do you propose to do?" inquired Ralph.

"Go over every one of those lines carefully."