"Karo--attention!"

"Sare," answered the little fellow, his bright twinkling eyes full of intelligence.

"Ask him how many!" said Zeph "--see?" and he touched himself, the boy and Ralph and Fred with his forefinger in turn.

Out rang a series of rising interrogatory sounds. There was a pause.

Then from the boy stationed at the bush came quick responsive toots--one, two, three, four.

"Tell Kara to bring you this--see, this?" and Zeph stooped down and touched the sodded yard with his hand. Karo whistled again.

Immediately Kara wheeled, stooped also, and was at their side in an instant, tendering a handful of gra.s.s.

"Say, this is odd all right," confessed Fred thoughtfully.

"Tell Kara to climb a tree next," spoke Zeph. More "whistle talk," and agile as a monkey Kara was aloft, making dizzying whirls among the branches of an oak nearby. "I tell you, it would stun you to watch these little fellows at play. It's like a piccolo or a calliope to hear them talk--yes, sir, talking just as knowingly as we do."

"Who are they, anyway?" spoke Fred curiously?

"I've told you--Canaries."

"Yes, but where did you pick them up?"

"That's a secret. You see," responded Zeph, looking duly wise and mysterious, "those boys were imported to this country by a peculiar old man, who wanted servants around him who weren't gabbing about his affairs and asking him questions all the time. Well, he's got them, hasn't he? I'm working for that man, or rather for a friend of his.

Detective work," continued Zeph, rather proudly. "I've told Ralph.

These two boys have been shut up in the house for two months. They just pined for fresh air, and trees--oh! trees are their stronghold.

When I started out with them they made for the first tree like birds for a roost. I have taken them out for an airing, and I ran down here to report to Ralph how I was getting on, and brought them along with me for the novelty of the thing."

"Do they live near here?" inquired Ralph.

"No," answered Zeph, "we had to come by rail. I can't tell you where they live, but it's on a branch of the Great Northern. I've got to get back to-night. We've had our supper, Ralph. I just wanted to settle up the bills I owed you. I'll say good-bye to your mother and get to the depot."

Zeph and his charges trooped to the kitchen door. Zeph spoke a few words to Mrs. Fairbanks. His companions bowed her a polite and graceful adieu, and Ralph accompanied their former boarder to the street.

"See here, Ralph," said Zeph to the young engineer in parting, "I don't want you to think I wouldn't tell you everything."

"That's all right, Zeph."

"But honestly, I've solemnly agreed not to lisp a word about what I am really about or the people concerned in it."

"That's all right, too," declared Ralph.

"I'll say this, though," resumed Zeph: "I'm working on a strange and serious case. It's no play or fooling. I'm getting big pay. I may do a big thing in the end, and when I do, if I do, I'm coming straight to tell you all about it."

Ralph watched Zeph and his charges disappear down the street with a great deal of curiosity and wonderment in his mind. A great many lively and unusual incidents were coming to the front recently, but this one was certainly enough out of the ordinary to give him food for profound thought.

Ralph rejoined Fred in the garden, and took him into the house and introduced him to his mother. Mrs. Fairbanks won the heart of the manly young fellow, as she did the love of all of her son's friends.

It was a pleasant, happy little coterie, that which sat down at the table soon afterwards to enjoy one of Mrs. Fairbanks' famous meals.

"I'm ashamed!" declared Fred, after his seventh hot biscuit with freshly churned b.u.t.ter that made his mouth water, "but eating houses and hotels, Mrs. Fairbanks, make a roving, homeless fellow like me desperate, and if a third helping of that exquisite apple sauce isn't out of order, I'll have another small fish."

"I'm spoiled for regular cooking, Bessie," declared Fogg to his wife.

"Mrs. Fairbanks is fattening us till we'll be of no use at all."

"You are all flatterers," said Mrs. Fairbanks warningly, but with a pleased smile.

"I'll take another piece of cake, ma'am, providing you'll promise me the little exercise of helping you wash the dishes afterwards," spoke Fred.

He interested the widow with his animated, interested talk as he bustled around the kitchen, wearing a big ap.r.o.n while drying the dishes. Then when this task was completed, he and Ralph went out to the little summer house and comfortably seated themselves.

"Now then," remarked the young railroader with a pleasant smile, "now for your confession, Fred."

"No, sir," objected his comrade vociferously, "I've done nothing that's wrong to confess. It will be an explanation."

"All right," agreed Ralph, "open the throttle and start the train."

At that moment there was an interruption. A chubby, undersized boy came swiftly through the gateway. He was advancing up the steps of the house when Ralph halted him.

"Hi, there, Davis!" he challenged. "What's wanted?"

"Oh, you there, Fairbanks!" responded Ned Davis, the red-headed call boy for the roundhouse of the Great Northern, familiarly known as "Torchy." "Extra orders for you and Fogg--you're to take out a special to-night."

CHAPTER XVII

IN WIDENER'S GAP

There was always a spice of novelty and excitement for the young engineer in running a special. Besides that, extra orders meant pay and a half, sometimes double pay, with twenty-four hours' rest after it, if the special run came after midnight.

Ralph arose from his seat in the summer-house, telling Ned Davis that Fogg and himself would report at the roundhouse at once.

"You'll have to excuse me, Porter," he said to his guest. "We'll have to postpone our talk until to-morrow."

"Duty call, I see," returned Fred. "Well, there's no urgency, now that I've found out you don't consider me some hideous impostor of the old story book kind. I'll go as far with you as a hotel, and tell you what I have to say after this trip."

"You'll camp right here at the Fairbanks cottage until I return,"

peremptorily declared Ralph. "My mother would be lonesome if there wasn't a boy somewhere about the house. Zeph is gone and my other friends, and you will be good company."

"I'm only too willing, if it's entirely agreeable," said Fred, and so it was settled.

Fogg grumbled a good deal when Ralph told him of the extra call. He declared that he had just succeeded in teaching the baby to say "All aboard!" looked at the sky and predicted the biggest storm of the season, and was cross generally until he climbed aboard No. 999. Then Ralph heard him talking to the well-groomed steel steed as if it was some pet racer, and he anxious and glad to put it through its paces.

"What's the run, Fairbanks?" asked the fireman, as Ralph returned from the roundhouse office.

"Nothing very interesting. Special sleeper, some convention crowd for Bridgeport, came in on the north branch. We've got to pick our way on our own schedule."

"Huh! thought it must be a treasure train, or the pay car at the least!" snorted Fogg contemptuously, but thoroughly good-natured under the surface.