Chapter XXVIII: The "test" Special

"Mr. Fairbanks?"

"Yes, sir."

"This is the office of the general superintendent. He wishes to see you immediately."

"I will report at once."

Ralph put down the telephone receiver, exchanged his office coat for street wear, and within five minutes was admitted into the private office of his superior official.

The superintendent looked bothered and his eyes were fixed on a great array of documents on the desk before him. Ralph's brisk step and bright face seemed to rouse him, and with a word of welcome he said:

"Sit down, Fairbanks." Ralph wondered why he had been sent for. He hoped it was concerning the pay car mystery. There was not an hour in the day that in some shape or other this perplexing puzzle did not come up before him. More than one of his friends was vitally interested in the outcome of that baffling case. For the sake of Bob Adair and Zeph Dallas, he sincerely wished that the mists of secrecy and vagueness might be cleared away.

"Unfinished business," spoke the superintendent after a pause, almost irritably brushing aside a heap of papers directly before him. "Will it ever be finished?" he added with a sigh. "Fairbanks," and the official singled out a letter from among the heap of documents, "I am afraid I must ask you to go on special duty."

"Very well, sir," said Ralph at once.

"Always ready, always willing," commended the superintendent with an approving glance at the young railroader. "I wish there were more like you, Fairbanks. You know the bother and stress we are in. This pay car business has upset the whole official force, and we are still in the dark."

"But Mr. Adair is on the case," submitted Ralph.

"It has been of no use. He has made an investigation along every inch of the road where the car might have disappeared. He has given up, discouraged. Here is his last report. He mentions you."

"Mentions me?" repeated Ralph.

"Yes. That is one reason why I have sent for you. He reports from Fairview, and asks us to send you to him on Wednesday."

"That is day after tomorrow," said Ralph.

"Exactly. What his plans are I cannot tell you, but he refers to some efficient work you have done in his line in the past, and requests us to detail you specially in his service. What do you say, Fairbanks?"

"I am at your orders, sir."

"Very good. That settles one part of the business. The other may not come so welcome to you, but you must be our man. Glance over that, will you?"

The official handed Ralph a card covered with calculations. There were bewildering figures, so many cars, so many used per day, so much profit. The totals were enormous.

"The Overland Fruit Dispatch," explained the superintendent, "is out for bids on the transfer of their cars east from Rockton."

"I heard something of that."

"We are out for the contract. It means a big thing for us. So is the Midland Central. That means war, or, rather, more war. Their schedule beats ours by ten minutes. We must beat them by two hours. The test run began at ten o'clock this morning. Porter and Winston, both good men, run as far as Portland. I am not afraid in broad daylight. Nearly all the trouble has been east of that point--you understand?"

"Perfectly," assented Ralph--"you are afraid of some trickery on the part of our rivals?"

"Yes. I want you to reach Portland and catch the special at four p. m. If the new locomotive crew look good to you, just superintend. But rush that train into the yards by the stroke of eleven p. m., or we lose the contract."

"I think I can do it," said Ralph.

"Very well, we give you free rein. Dismiss the crew and find a new one, as you like. You have orders for clear tracks over everything else. Lay out your schedule, give Glidden charge of the wires at headquarters, and get us that contract."

"I will catch the first west through and report at eleven o'clock to-night," promised Ralph confidently.

"Good for you, Fairbanks," commended the superintendent, slapping Ralph encouragingly on the shoulder.

The next was a busy hour for Ralph. He studied the schedules, posted Glidden, took a hurry run for home and caught the train just as it was pulling out of the depot. Ralph reached Portland at half-past three in the afternoon.

The special was on time and due in thirty minutes. She was to take water and coal at the yards, and Ralph, making himself known to the operator there, loitered outside. He saw the relief engineer appear. He was a man he did not know, and something about his face and manner impressed the young railroader rather unfavorably.

The man set his dinner pail near the steps of the switch tower and walked about with the air of a person looking for some one. Then at a low whistle he started for a pile of ties some distance away. A man lurking there had beckoned to him. Ralph watched closely but drew back out of view. His keenest wits were on the alert in a second. He had recognized the lurker as a former unreliable employe of the Great Northern, discharged at the time of the great strike.

Ralph feared this fellow might recognize him and dared not approach him any nearer. The twain conversed for only a moment. Then the lurker handed the engineer a bag. It held apparently about a bushel of some kind of stuff. The engineer took it and returned to the tower, his companion disappearing.

Just then the special came down the tracks. The locomotive was disconnected and the tired and grimed crew drove for the dog house.

In a minute or two the relief engine came down the tracks in charge of the fireman of the run. Ralph looked over the man. He had all the appearances of an honest, plodding fellow. After he had hitched to the train he got down to oil some cylinders. The engineer piled aboard with his bag, chucked it under the seat, and alighted again and went back to meet the conductor from the caboose.

Of that bag Ralph had been suspicious from the start. He now deftly took the engine step, hauled out the bag, thrust it under the fireman's seat, swung shut its swinging board, and sat down at the engineer's post.

"Hello!" exclaimed the fireman, stepping up into the cab--"who are you?"

"Your engineer this trip."

"Eh? Where does Bartley come in?"

"He don't come in," replied Ralph definitely.

"Your name Bartley?" inquired Ralph, as the engineer and the conductor came up to the locomotive.

"That's me," smartly responded the man with a wondering look at Ralph.

"Well, you are relieved from duty on this special trip," advised Ralph.

"Hey--who says so?"

"The general superintendent. Is that right, operator?"

The towerman nodded, beckoned Bartley aside and made some explanations to him. His auditor looked sullen and ugly. Ralph did not leave the post of duty he had assumed, meantime giving the conductor an idea of how affairs stood.

"Hold on, there," spoke Bartley in a gruff tone, as the train got ready to start out. "I've got some personal property in that cab."

"All right," nodded Ralph in quite a friendly way--"get it out."

"Bag of apples for a mate down the line," mumbled the engineer, reaching under the seat. "Bag of--thunder! they've gone."

The conductor had run to the caboose. The engineer drew back from the empty void under the seat in a puzzled, baffled way. Ralph beckoned to the operator.

"Watch that man," he ordered in a quick whisper. "If he tries to send any messages ahead advise the operator to report instantly to headquarters."

Then Ralph opened the throttle and sent the test special on her dubious way, leaving the discomfited Bartley glaring after him in baffled suspicion and distrust.