Slump?"

"I think you can," answered Slump. "You know Ike and his a.s.sociates, and maybe you can get track of their hang-out. I can't. Fairbanks,"

and the man's voice broke, "it's killing my wife! It's a lot to ask of you, under the circ.u.mstances, but Forgan says you seem to have a knack of doing everything right. I want you to find my boy--I want you to try to prevail on him to come home. Will you?"

Ralph was a good deal moved as he thought of the stricken mother. He had small hopes of Ike Slump--smaller than ever, as he considered the manner of man his father was, but he answered promptly:

"I'll try, Mr. Slump."

CHAPTER XVIII--A NAME TO CONJURE BY?

Big Denny came to where Ralph was putting the finishing touches to one of the fast runners of the road about ten o'clock one morning.

n.o.body in the world enjoyed talk and gossip like the veteran watchman, as Ralph well knew, and it really pleased him to have his company, for among the driftwood of all his desultory confidences Denny usually produced some point interesting or enlightening.

On this especial occasion there was a zest to the old watchman's greeting of the young railroader that indicated he had something of more than ordinary interest to impart.

"By the way, Fairbanks," he observed, "I saw that rich old hunks, Farrington, this morning. He was down here."

"At the roundhouse, you mean?" inquired Ralph, with some interest.

"Well, not exactly. He was over by the switch towers, met Forgan, and had quite a talk with him. Thought I'd post you."

"Why, what about?" asked Ralph.

"He'll be after you, next."

"Not until the first of next month, when the interest is due, I fancy,"

said Ralph. "I do not think Mr. Farrington has any interest in us outside of his semi-annual interest."

"He'll be nosing around, see if he isn't!" predicted Denny oracularly.

"I've got a tip to give you, Fairbanks. I got the point yesterday.

There's some talk of running a switch over to Bloomdale. If they do, they'll have to condemn a right of way, along where you live. Word to the wise, eh? nuff said!" and Denny departed, with a significant wink.

Ralph wondered if there was any real basis to Denny's intimation. He fancied it was only one of the rumors constantly floating around about prospective railroad improvements.

That evening, however, Ralph received a suggestion that put him on his guard, if nothing more.

He had gone down town to get some nails for Van, who was building a new chicken coop, when he met Grif Farrington.

"Just looking for you," declared Grif. "I say, Fairbanks, the old man is anxious to see you."

"Your uncle wants to see me?" repeated Ralph incredulously.

"Right away. Asked me to find you and tell you. Business, he says, and important. You couldn't run up to the house now, could you?" he added.

Ralph hesitated--he was suspicious of old Gasper Farrington, and he had no business with him, for it was his mother's province to attend to anything concerning their money dealings, and he did not feel warranted in interfering.

On second thought, however, Ralph decided that they could not know too much of the plots and intentions of Farrington, and he told Grif he would go up to the house at once.

Gasper Farrington lived in a fine old mansion, from parsimony, however, allowed to go to decay, so that all that was really attractive about the place were the grounds.

Ralph found the magnate seated on the porch. He knew that something was up as Farrington arose with a great show of welcome, made him sit down in the easiest chair, and treated him as if he were the dearest friend the old man had in the world.

"You sent for me, Mr. Farrington?" Ralph observed, between some flattering but meaningless remarks of his wily host.

"Why, yes--yes," a.s.sented Farrington.

"On business, your nephew told me."

"H'm--hardly that. I'll tell you, Fairbanks, I have been greatly interested and pleased to notice the manly course you have taken."

"Thank you, Mr. Farrington."

"In fact, I have taken pains to inquire of your direct employers as to your capability and record, and am gratified to find them good--exceptionally good."

Ralph wondered what was coming next.

"Your father was my friend--I want to be yours. I am not without a certain interest and influence in the matter of the railroad, as you may know, and I have decided to exert myself in your behalf."

"You are very kind," said Ralph.

"Not at all. I recognize merit, and I--u'm! I feel a decided duty in the premises. The auditor of the road at Springfield holds his office through my recommendation. I was talking with him yesterday, and I have a proposition to make you. I will give you five hundred dollars more than the market price for your house and lot, rent you a place I own at Springfield for a mere nominal turn, and guarantee you a good office position in the auditor's department there at forty dollars a month to start in with."

Ralph opened his eyes wide. It was certainly a tempting bait. Had any person but crafty old Gasper Farrington made the tender, he might have jumped at it.

Instantly, however, he remembered what Denny had said about the new line, recalled the fact that Farrington had never been known to make a bad bargain, compared confining labor over a desk in a hot, stifling room with the free, glad dash of mail and express, the bracing air, the constant change of real railroad life, reflected that once away from Stanley Junction he and his mother would never be likely to learn more of Farrington's past doings with his dead father, and--Ralph decided.

"Mr. Farrington," he said, "in regard to the cottage, that is my mother's sole business, and I do not think she could be induced to sell you a place that has been a very dear home to her. As to myself--I thank you for your kind intentions, but at present I have no desire to change my work."

"Why not--why not?" cried Farrington. He had been unctuous, smirking and eager. Now his brow darkened, and his thin lips came together in a sour, vicious way.

"Well, I have marked out a certain thorough course after much thought and advice, and do not like to depart from it."

Gasper Farrington got up and paced the porch restlessly. The old rancor and dislike came back to his thin, shrewd face.

"You'll regret it!" he mumbled.

"I hope not," said Ralph, rising also.

"Young man," observed Farrington, stabbing at his guest with a quivering finger, "I warn you that you are taking an obstinate and fatal course."

"Warn?" echoed Ralph--"that is pretty strong language, isn't it, Mr.

Farrington?"

"And I mean it to be so!" cried Farrington, casting aside all disguise.