"Extry! extry!" he called.

"Here, boy--what have you got extra?" asked a pa.s.ser-by.

"Full account of the great Stanley Junction jail escape!"

"What's that?" cried Ralph irrepressibly.

"Hey, never mind--I'll tell you," p.r.o.nounced Slavin's voice suddenly at his elbow. "I'm out of breath. Just missed you at your house, and ran all the way here after you."

"Slavin, what is this I hear--a jail escape?"

"Yes--Slump and Bemis. It seems someone smuggled some tools in to them yesterday."

"Farrington's man."

"That's how I figure it out," a.s.sented Slavin. "Anyhow, they discovered that the prisoners were gone about midnight. I didn't hear of it until about an hour ago. I hurried to the road detective. He got a 'phone from Van Sherwin at the jail about two o'clock this morning. It was to wire to the jailer to give him his liberty."

"What--Van gone, too!" exclaimed Ralph.

"That's the way it looks. I just came from the jail. They had let Sherwin go. The jailer said he had left a note. For Ralph Fairbanks. I took it to deliver. Here it is."

Ralph eagerly tore open the letter Slavin handed him.

It contained Van's signature in initials, and one line only. This read:

"Got track of Mrs. Davis--I have the stolen papers."

CHAPTER XXIX--GUESSING

Young Slavin was marking some initials on the current date on a big calendar hanging up on the door of the coat closet of the depot switch tower.

It was his third day of service. As old Jack Knight came up the trap ladder, his grim face broke into an expression of sincere approbation.

He took a keen look around the place.

"Neat and tidy," he observed. "You'll do, Slavin. But what's those hieroglyphics on that calendar for?"

"Oh, just a memoranda," explained the new tower hand, with a conscious flush.

"'P.I.N.' eh?" said Knight.

The initials were blue-penciled in the date s.p.a.ce of each of the three days of Slavin's employment.

"Yes, sir."

"What's the answer? Something about a coupling pin?"

"Naw. Those initials, Mr. Knight, represent the boiling down of the rules for employees printed on the card of instructions."

"That so?"

"Yes, sir, Promptness, Industry, Neatness. I'm trying to fill that bill."

"You've done it so far," observed old Jack. "I hear you show up an hour before time."

"Can't sleep, thinking of my grand luck!" chuckled Slavin.

"You're certainly all the time fussing around, if that's industry," went on Knight. "Those windows shine like headlights. You've oiled up everything till the lack of creaking makes a fellow lonesome. As to neatness--well, if you haven't actually scrubbed the floor here!"

"I thought it needed it," said Slavin.

"Keep it up, son," encouraged old Jack. "You're making a fine beginning."

Slavin went singing and whistling about his work the whole day long. It did Ralph's heart good, when he arrived, to see his protege happy, industrious, and headed in the right direction.

Things were going on famously smooth and satisfactory at the switch tower. A friend of old Farrington's, and by no means of Ralph's, one Bardon, an inspector, had looked over the layout with a critical eye the day previous.

"You'll find no flaws here, friend," old Jack had announced.

Bardon had to admit that the switch tower regime was in perfect working order.

Since the escape of Ike Slump and Mort Bemis and the new disappearance of Van Sherwin, not a clew as to the course or whereabouts of the missing trio had reached either Ralph or his friends.

There had been a big row up at the jail, and one of the under officers had been discharged under suspicion.

It was evident that someone had smuggled tools and ropes into the jail, for these were found in the cell through the forced window of which Slump and Bemis had escaped.

These could hardly have pa.s.sed proper inspection, if hidden in food or clothing brought to the prisoners by outsiders.

"Of course old Farrington's man did the job," a.s.serted Slavin.

"Of course he did," a.s.sented Ralph. "It was the cheapest way of giving his troublesome pensioners their liberty."

Van's message to Ralph had a very encouraging tone to it. He evidently had a clew to Mrs. Davis' place of confinement, and "he had the stolen doc.u.ments."

As the days went by, however, Ralph began to grow anxious, and his mother shared his worry. Ralph had told her everything concerning the rifled tin box. Mrs. Fairbanks was mainly troubled over the possible imprisonment and mistreatment of Mrs. Davis.

"The poor lady has suffered a great deal of trouble," she remarked. "Her mind was none too strong. It is wicked to torture her further, Ralph, can we do nothing to force Mr. Farrington to tell where she is?"

"He would deny having ever heard of Mrs. Davis," a.s.serted Ralph convincedly. "Of course, if any mishap or failure comes to Van, and he doesn't report soon, I will see a lawyer and try and compel Farrington to some action. He is a shrewd, cruel man, though, mother. I am afraid our only hope is in Van, or the recapture of Slump and Bemis."

"Have they tried to find them?"

"Mr. Adair has been searching for them everywhere. He believes that Farrington a.s.sisted in their escape, and gave them a large amount of money to leave the country."