"They came late this afternoon. A friend told me he saw them driving along in a cab, fixed up reckless. He said they had on the latest new togs, diamond pins, kid gloves, et settery, till you couldn't rest."

"I should think that was rather venturesome on Slump's part," said Ralph.

"You mean, because there's a warrant out for him on that old junk-stealing case?"

"Yes," answered Ralph.

"It's settled."

"It's--what?" demanded Ralph in profound astonishment.

"Settled--at least fixed up in some way."

"How do you know?" inquired Ralph skeptically.

"Adair, the road detective, told a crossings man, boiling hot over it.

Said that Slump had gone to the justice, put in an appearance, and was bound over to next court term."

"Why," said Ralph, "that looks incredible. He would have to give bonds."

"Yes, five hundred dollars' bail. He gave it, right enough. Bondsman was right there. The thing had been cut and dried beforehand."

"Who was his bondsman--did you learn?" asked Ralph.

"Sure--it was old Gasper Farrington."

CHAPTER XVIII--A DESPERATE CHANCE

"Gasper Farrington again!" cried Ralph.

His thoughts ran rapidly. At a good many turns of late, it seemed, the miserly magnate of Stanley Junction was coming into his life.

To Ralph the solution of the present problem was prompt and logical: Farrington probably had the unfortunate Mrs. Davis in his power. He had hired Mort Bemis and Ike Slump to kidnap her. Now he himself was at the mercy and in the clutches of his conscienceless confederates.

Ralph theorized that he had paid his accomplices a goodly sum of money for their a.s.sistance. For a time, with plenty of ready cash in their possession, they had found diversion in the city. The longing to cut a dash at home, however, had brought them back to Stanley Junction.

It looked as if Slump had set a price for his silence and secrecy regarding the magnate's schemes. He had probably demanded that Farrington go on his bail bond, and afterwards stand back of him in the trial with his wealth and influence.

"I am very much obliged to you for what you have told me, Slavin," said Ralph at last. "Also for your kindly intentions toward me. If I were you, though, I wouldn't go getting into trouble with those two fellows."

"Trouble?" cried Slavin wrathfully. "I want to get back my medals. Say, if those fellows who stole them have sold them where I can't get them, or melted them down, I'll pretty near cripple them for life. But you mind what I came to tell you. They hate you, and they'll try and trap you. So, you watch out close. As I say, I'll do the rest. I'm going."

"Good-night, Slavin," answered Ralph, extending his hand.

Slavin started at the sight of it. He flushed, looked pleased, and his big broad paw shot out.

"You honor me," he said, "and I'm proud of it. Oh, say--'sense!

'sense!"

"Excuse what?" demanded Ralph calmly, with a twinkle in his eye.

Slavin had unconsciously given Ralph the crushing hand-shake that used to lay up unsuspicious new acquaintances for a week. To his surprise the grip was returned with equal force. Ralph did not even wince.

"You're a good one," p.r.o.nounced Slavin, in genuine admiration. "I thought I'd hurt you."

"Pulling those levers is a great muscle-builder," explained Ralph.

"Looks so, in your case," admitted Slavin. "Say," he added, in a kind of longing sigh, his eyes sparkling as they ran the grim battery of switch pullers--"there's my ambition in life."

"What's that, Slavin--tower duty?"

"Oh, anything in the railroad line, from pulling up piles to driving spikes," declared Slavin, swinging his big arms about restlessly.

"There's no bad in me. I'd love to work. Only, you see, I was born strong, and something has kept me pushing my muscle to the fore. It led to encouraging me to be a bruiser. I tell you, if I had a job like this, where I could work off the extra steam, I'd just make a record."

"Then--why not?" inquired Ralph.

"You mean, why not get the job?" exclaimed Slavin in an eager breath.

"Exactly."

"Would they have me?"

"Again, why not?" said Ralph--"if you are in earnest."

"Oh, am I!"

"I'll speak to Mr. Knight. I will do more. I will ask the depot master to take your application, Slavin," said Ralph earnestly, laying a gentle hand on the big fellow's shoulder, "you have shown yourself a man to-night. Keep it up, and"--Ralph smiled significantly as he quoted Slavin's own recent words--"I'll do the rest."

Slavin dashed an impetuous hand across his eyes. They had filled with a suspicious moisture. He evidently could not trust himself to speak further, for as he started down the trap ladder he only waved Ralph a clumsy, silent adieu.

The episode of Young Slavin's visit had been a pleasant diversion to the monotony of the hour Ralph pulled the out switch for the 12.15 mail.

Then he sat down again and finished his lunch.

The storm raged on with unabated fury. There was nothing to do now until morning except to watch out for the night express and the regular freight.

The express, Ralph knew, was stalled by a wash-out beyond Acton.

Naturally the freight, blocked behind it, could not get through until the road was cleared. Ralph walked up and down the tower for exercise.

Suddenly he threw up a window.

Some moving lanterns over on the repair trade attracted his attention.

Their flare and that of the lightning showed him three men getting a handcar in to service. One of them ran up to the tower and made a trumpet of his hands.

"Give us the out track," he called.

"All right," answered Ralph