"He left two hours ago, Ralph."

"Is that so? Then why didn't you wake me up? I left a card for you on the kitchen table."

"I did not find it," said the widow, and then a search revealed the card where the wind had blown it under the stove.

"What did the boy say?" inquired Ralph.

"He told me his name was Zeph Dallas. I talked to him about his misfortunes of the morning, and he broke down and cried. Then he went out to the wagon. He found an account book there, and said you must have delivered his load for him, and that he would never forget your kindness."

"There was a package in the wagon," said Ralph.

"He spoke of that, and said some one must have stolen it."

"You are sure he didn't find it later?" inquired Ralph. "It was in the woodshed, where I placed it for safe keeping."

Ralph went out to the shed, and found the package where he had left it. He returned to the house with it, ate a hurried meal, and hastened down town. He learned that Zeph had called at several stores. The farmer boy appeared to have discovered Ralph's interest in his behalf, and had driven home.

"I wonder what there is in the package?" mused Ralph, when he again reached the cottage. "I had better open it and find out."

The young fireman was quite startled as he untied the parcel and glanced at its contents. The package contained two bolts of silk, and the tags on them bore the name of the firm which, Ralph had learned at Dover, had shipped the goods stolen from the slow freight two nights previous.

CHAPTER IV

AN OLD-TIME ENEMY

"New engine, lad?"

"Not at all, Mr. Griscom, as you well know," answered Ralph.

The veteran engineer chuckled, but he continued looking over the locomotive with admiring eyes.

The young fireman had come to work early that afternoon. The roundhouse men were careless and he decided to show them what "elbow grease" and industry could do. In an hour he had the old freight locomotive looking indeed like a new engine.

They steamed out of the roundhouse and were soon at the head of their freight train.

"I wish I had a little time to spare," said Ralph.

"Half-an-hour before we have to leave, you know, lad," said Griscom.

"What's troubling you?"

"I wanted to see Bob Adair, the road detective."

"About the silk robbery?" inquired the engineer with interest.

"Yes."

"Something new?"

"Considerable, I think."

"You might find him in the depot offices. Run down and see. I'll attend to things here."

"Thanks, Mr. Griscom."

Ralph hurried away from the freight train. He wished to report about the discovery of the silk, and hunt up Zeph Dallas at once.

"I hardly believe the farmer boy a thief," mused Ralph, "but he must explain his possession of that silk."

The young fireman did not find Adair at the depot, and came back to the engine to discover Jim Evans lounging in the cab.

"Been helping Griscom out," grinned the man.

"Well, get out, now," growled Griscom. "Time to start up. There's the signal from the conductor. That man has been hanging around the engine ever since you left," the old engineer continued to Ralph, "and he is too good-natured to suit me."

"Nothing out of order," reported the youth, looking about the cab.

"Now, lad, for a run on time," said Griscom. "This run has been late a good deal, and I don't want to get a bad name. When I ran the Daylight Express it was my pride and boast that we were always on time to the minute."

They made good time out of Stanley Junction to Afton. Ten miles beyond, however, there was a jolt, a slide and difficult progress on a bit of upgrade rails.

So serious was the difficulty that Griscom stopped the train and got out to investigate. He returned to the cab with a set, grim face.

"Grease," he reported; "some one has been tampering with the rails.

Spite work, too."

There was fully an hour's delay, but a liberal application of sand to the rails helped them out. Five miles later on the locomotive began to puff and jerk. With full steam on, the engine did only half duty.

"Water gauge all right," said Ralph. "I don't understand it."

"I do," said Griscom, "and I can tell it in two words--Jim Evans."

"Why, what do you mean, Mr. Griscom?"

"He didn't come into the cab for nothing. Yes, we are victims of the old trick--soap in the water and the valves are clogged."

"What are we going to do about it?" inquired Ralph anxiously.

"Pump out the water at the next tank and take a new supply on."

There was a further delay of nearly two hours. Once more they started up. Ten miles from Dover, a few seconds after Ralph had thrown in coal, a terrible explosion threw the fire cover open and singed and burned both engineer and fireman.

Griscom looked angry, for the fire now needed mending.

"Lad," he said grimly, "these tricks are done to scare you and delay the train."