Ralph realized that it wasn't very pleasant working under the continual menace of enemies plotting in the dark and in a mean, desperate way. There was nothing for it, however, but to exercise patience, vigilance and courage.

"They shall never drive me from my post of duty," firmly decided the young railroader. "I shall neither tire out nor scare out."

Riverton was made on time and with no unpleasant incident to mar a schedule trip. No. 999 was run to a siding, and Ralph and Fogg had over two hours on their hands to spend as they chose. They had brought their lunch, and they dispatched the best part of it in the cab. Mrs.

Fairbanks had put it up in a basket, and a two-quart fruit jar held the cold coffee. After the repast Fogg fixed the fire and they strolled down to the depot.

The station agent was an old acquaintance of Ralph. He knew Van Sherwin, Limpy Joe and the people up at the Short Line railroad, kept posted on their progress pretty closely, and he had a good deal of interesting railroad gossip to retail to Ralph.

"Oh, by the way," he observed incidentally, after they had conversed for some time, "there was a spruce young fellow here this morning asking very particularly about 999 and her movements. He mentioned your name too."

"Who was he?" inquired Ralph.

"I never saw him before. He was curious all about your run, hung around a while and then disappeared. I haven't seen him since."

"Describe him, won't you?" and the station agent did so. Ralph was sure that the stranger was the youth he had known as Marvin Clark.

From that time on until the train got ready for the return trip, the young railroader kept his eyes open for a glimpse of his acquaintance with the double ident.i.ty. The latter, however, up to the time No. 999 steamed out from Riverton, did not put in an appearance.

"Well, n.o.body tackled us at Riverton," observed Ralph, as he and Fogg settled down comfortably to their respective tasks.

"Better not," retorted the fireman keenly. "I just made a little purchase this morning, and I'm going to stand no fooling," and he touched his hip pocket meaningly. "Have a swig?" he inquired additionally, as he reached for the jar of coffee and took a drink.

"Oh, I could feast on my mother's coffee all day," observed Ralph as the jar was pa.s.sed to him. "Now, then, you finish it up and hand me one of those doughnuts."

The little refection seemed to add to the satisfaction of the moment.

Their run was a slow one, and there was little to do besides keeping the machinery in motion. The day was warm, but the air was balmy. The landscape was interesting, and they seemed gliding along as in a pleasing dream.

Later, when he a.n.a.lyzed his sensations, the young railroader, recalling just these impressions, knew that they were caused by artificial conditions. Ralph relapsed into a dream--indeed, he was amazed, he was startled to find himself opening his eyes with difficulty, and of discovering his fireman doubled up in his seat, fast asleep. He tried to shout to Fogg, realizing that something was wrong. He could not utter a word, his tongue seemed glued to the roof of his mouth. Ralph barely managed to slip to his feet in an effort to arouse his cab mate.

"Something wrong!" ran through his mind. A vague thrill crossed his frame as, whirling by a landmark, a white-painted cattle guard, he realized that he must have gone five miles without noting distance.

The bridge was his next thought. Muddy Creek was less than a mile ahead. If the draw should be open! Wildly reaching towards the lever, the young engineer sank to the floor a senseless heap, while No. 999, without a guide, dashed down the shining rails!

CHAPTER XIV

A SERIOUS PLOT

"Who stopped this train--and why?"

Dreamily returning to consciousness, these were the first words that reached Ralph Fairbanks' rallying consciousness. They were spoken by the conductor of the accommodation train sharply. The locomotive was at a standstill, and, staring wonderingly, the conductor stood by the side of the tender.

"I did," answered a prompt voice, and removing his hand from the lever, the boy whom the young engineer had known as Marvin Clark drifted before his vision.

"h.e.l.lo!" exclaimed the conductor, "I've seen you before. You're the fellow who caught the train at Riverton just as she left--had a free pa.s.s."

"Never mind me, Mr. Conductor," responded the other rapidly. "I'm thinking they need some attention," and he pointed to the fireman, lying doubled up in his seat, and then to Ralph, lying p.r.o.ne on the floor of the cab.

"Fairbanks--Fogg!" fairly shouted the conductor. "Why, what can this mean?"

"Foul play, if I'm a judge," spoke Clark definitely. "Fairbanks!

Fairbanks!" he shouted, stooping over and lifting Ralph in his strong arms. "Here, brace him in his seat."

"Water!" gasped the young engineer in a choking tone. "My throat is on fire! What has happened?"

"Nothing alarming," answered Clark rea.s.suringly, "only--I'm glad I happened to be here."

Ralph's mouth and throat seemed burning up. The water he drank only partially allayed his frantic thirst. It was with great difficulty that he could arouse himself from a lethargy that seemed to completely paralyze both body and mind. As the moments pa.s.sed, however, he succeeded in rallying into something like normal. But as yet he was unable to fully understand just what had happened.

"He needs something to stimulate him," declared the conductor, and stepping into the cab he hastily ransacked the fireman's bunker.

"Aha!"

His tones announced a discovery--likewise a suspicion. He had unearthed two flasks of liquor, one only partly filled.

"Not for me," said Ralph, waving back the conductor, who evidently was intent on administering a stimulant. "Liquor!" he cried, suddenly bracing up now. "Fogg never brought it aboard. It's some plot! Why!"

he exclaimed, in sudden enlightenment, "I see it all, clear as day."

What Ralph saw, all hands in the cab soon realized within the ensuing ten minutes. When they had aroused Fogg, there followed animated theory, discovery and conviction. Not one of them doubted but that some enemy had sneaked aboard of the locomotive while it was sidetracked at noon at Riverton and had put some drug in the jar of coffee. They found a suspicious dark sediment at the bottom of the jar.

"Black Hands--mark it down," observed Fogg. "Whoever did it, also placed those flasks of liquor in my bunker. See the label on them?

They come from a place in Riverton I never was in. The scoundrels aimed to have us found in the cab, just as we have been, and a report go in that the heat and too much liquor had crippled us from making the run."

"You've struck it, Fogg," a.s.sented the conductor. "Just stow that jar and those two flasks in a safe place. I'll have our special agent Adair, the road detective, find out who bought that liquor. No need of any blabbing to the general public. Are you able to complete the run, Fairbanks?"

"Certainly," reported Ralph, exercising arms and feet vigorously to restore their circulation. Fogg was still dazed and weak. He had drunk more of the coffee than Ralph. Besides, being the older of the two, he did not shake off the effects of the narcotic so readily as the young engineer.

"I'll help fire--I know how to," declared Clark.

"You know how to stop an engine, too!" commented the conductor. "All right, Fairbanks, when you're ready," and he returned to the coaches.

Ralph extended his hand to Clark. The latter met his glance frankly.

"I've been trying to get track of your movements by telegraph," said Clark. "Located your run, and was waiting at Riverton for your train.

Got there ahead of time, and came back to the depot just as 999 was pulling out, and caught the last car. First, I thought I'd not show myself until you got through with your trip. Things got dull in those humdrum coaches, though, and I sailed ahead to the tender, saw what was wrong, and checked up the locomotive just beyond the bridge. Say, if the draw had been open, we'd all have had a bath, eh?"

"The miscreants who played this diabolical trick ought to be severely punished," said Ralph.

There was no evidence of strained relations between the two boys.

Ralph recognized that Clark had sought him out to make an explanation.

He wondered what it would be. The present was not, however, the time to broach the subject. There was something very manly and rea.s.suring in Clark's manner, and the young railroader believed that when he got ready to disclose his secret, the revelation would be an unusual and interesting one.

The train was started up, soon made up the lost time, and at 5:15 rolled into the depot at Stanley Junction. Ralph did not feel quite as well as usual and his fireman was pale and loggy, but the main effects of the drug had pa.s.sed off.

"You go straight home, Mr. Fogg," directed Ralph. "I will see that 999 is put to bed all right."

"I think I'll take advantage of your kind offer, Fairbanks," responded Fogg. "I'm weak as a cat, and my head is going around like an electric turntable."