Ralph dashed after the train, now halted beyond the trestle. He did not heed the shout of the brakeman already out on the tracks, but got up to the locomotive just as the conductor, lantern in hand, reached it.

"h.e.l.lo!" shot out the engineer of No. 38, staring at the figure outlined within the halo of the conductor's light--"Fairbanks!"

"Why, so it is!" exclaimed the conductor, and it was easy for him to discern from Ralph's sudden appearance and breathless manner that he had some interest, if not an active part, in the mysterious disappearance of the semaph.o.r.e signal. "What is it, Fairbanks?"

Very hurriedly Ralph explained. The engineer of No. 38 uttered a low whistle, meantime regarding the active young railroader, whom he well knew, with a glance of decided admiration. Then as hurried were the further movements of the conductor.

Within a very few minutes a brakeman was speeding back to Widener to inform the man on duty there of the condition of affairs. He returned to report the situation in safe official control all up and down the line. In the meantime No 38. had moved up to the scene of the wreck.

This was done at the suggestion of Ralph, who did not know how the pa.s.sengers in the special coach might have fared. Arrived at the scene, however, it was soon learned that two men only had been thrown from their beds and slightly bruised. The rest of the pa.s.sengers were only shaken up.

The frightened pa.s.sengers were huddled up, drenched to the skin, at the side of the gap, for Fogg had insisted on their taking no risk remaining in the derailed coach.

"We're stalled for three hours," decided the engineer of No. 38.

"Yes, and more than that, if the wrecking gang is not at Virden, as we suppose," added the conductor.

The pa.s.sengers of the derailed coach were taken to shelter in a coach which backed to Widener. There was nothing to do now for the engineer and fireman of No. 999 but to await the arrival of the wrecking crew.

Word came finally by messenger from the dispatcher at the station that the same was on its way to the Gap. Inside of two hours the coach was back on the rails, and No. 999 moved ahead, took on transferred pa.s.sengers from No. 38, and renewed the run to Bridgeport on a make-time schedule.

There had been a good many compliments for the young engineer from the crew of No. 38. The conductor had expressed some gratifying expressions of appreciation from the pa.s.sengers who had heard of Ralph's thrilling feat at the semaph.o.r.e. The conductor of the special coach attached to No. 999 had come up and shook hands with Ralph, a choking hoa.r.s.eness in his throat as he remarked: "It's a honor to railroad with such fellows as you." Fogg had said little. There were many grim realities in railroading he knew well from experience. This was only one of them. After they started from Widener he had given his engineer a hearty slap of the shoulder, and with shining eyes made the remark:

"This is another boost for you, Fairbanks."

"For No. 999, you mean," smiled Ralph significantly. "We'll hope so, anyway, Mr. Fogg."

Wet, grimed, cinder-eyed, but supremely satisfied, they pulled into Bridgeport with a good record, considering the delay at the Gap. The conductor of the special coach laid off there. No. 999 was to get back to Stanley Junction as best she could and as quickly. As she cut loose from the coach its conductor came up with an envelope.

"My pa.s.sengers made up a little donation, Fairbanks," the man said.

"There's a newspaper man among them. He's correspondent for some daily press a.s.sociation. Been writing up 'the heroic dash--brave youth at the trestle--forlorn hope of an unerring marksman'--and all that."

"Oh, he's not writing for a newspaper," laughed Ralph; "he's making up a melodrama."

"Well, he'll make you famous, just the same, and here's some government photographs for you lucky fellows," added the conductor, tossing the envelope in his hand into the cab.

Fogg grinned over his share of the fifty-dollar donation and accepted it as a matter of course. Ralph said nothing, but he was somewhat affected. He was pleased at the recognition of his earnest services.

At the same time the exploit of the night had shaken his nerves naturally, and reminded him of all the perils that accompanied a practical railroad career. A stern sense of responsibility made him thoughtful and grave, and he had in mind many a brave, loyal fellow whose fame had been unheralded and unsung, who had stuck to his post in time of danger and had given up his life to save others.

No. 999 was back at Stanley Junction by eight o'clock the next morning. When Ralph reached home he was so tired out he did not even wait for breakfast, but went straightway to his bed.

He came down the stairs in the morning bright as a dollar, to hear his mother humming a happy song in the dining-room, and Fred Porter softly accompanying with a low-toned whistle on the veranda. The latter, waving a newspaper in his hand, made a dash for Ralph.

"Look!" he exclaimed, pointing to some sensational headlines. "They've got you in print with a vengeance. A whole column about 'the last heroic exploit of our expert young railroader and rising townsman--Engineer Fairbanks.'"

CHAPTER XIX

THE BOY WHO WAS HAZED

"Well, Porter, proceed."

Ralph gave the direction. He and Fred were seated in the garden summer-house, settled comfortably on benches facing each other across a rustic table, after a good breakfast, a general restful feeling permeating them.

"All right," a.s.sented Fred. "Before I begin, though, I wish to make a remark. The way your mother and yourself have treated me has been just royal--I'll never forget it!"

"And never forget us," directed the young engineer with a warm, friendly smile. "You'll always find yourself welcome in this house."

"That's what gets me," said Fred, and there was a slight tremor and a suspicion of tears in his voice. "Most fellows would have little to do with an impostor, eh?"

"That's a pretty hard word, Porter," intimated Ralph. "Just the same, I believe in you. I have had confidence in you all along."

"And my story won't disturb it any," declared Fred. "Well, to begin--my name is not Marvin Clark."

"Of course, I know that already."

"It is Fred Porter."

"So you have told me."

"I am an orphan, homeless. As I said when I first came here, I have been a sort of a knockabout, a wanderer. I have been a poor boy. The real Marvin Clark, whose father is the real and genuine president of the Middletown & Western Railroad, is a rich boy. I have saved his life when he was drowning. He likes me for that, and there isn't much that he wouldn't do for me."

"You deserve it," said Ralph.

"Well, to make a long story short, he was a student at the Earlville Academy. He's a fine, manly fellow, nothing sneaking or mean about him. One night, though, he and his school chums got to cutting up.

They raided the town and had a dozen fights with the village boys. One of them was taken prisoner, a lad named Ernest Gregg. The academy fellows decided to haze him. They put him through an awful course of sprouts. They ducked him in the river, scared him with mock gunpowder explosions, and wound up by tying him blindfolded to a switch near a railroad track. They left him there all night. The result was that when little Ernest was discovered the next morning, he was in a high fever and delirious."

"Too bad," murmured Ralph. "I don't think much of your Marvin Clark."

"Hold on, don't misjudge him. He helped to capture the enemy, as they called poor little Gregg, but he left the crowd right after that, supposing his chums would scare their captive a bit and let him go.

Clark had no hand whatever in the downright persecution that sent the boy to the hospital. It seems that some of the gunpowder got into the eyes of the little fellow, and the douse in the river had given him a cold. The scare he got had nearly driven him out of his right mind, for he was a timid little fellow. A month later Ernest was discharged from the hospital nearly blind, thin, pale and weakly, a mere shadow of his former self."

"Of course the academy fellows tried to make up for all that,"

suggested Ralph.

"They didn't. Vacation came on, and they hied to their homes with not a thought of the great sorrow they had brought on their innocent victim. They say that Clark was just furious when he heard of it all.

He laid out two of the ringleaders and shamed them in public. He sought out Ernest and took him to the best hotel in town. He hired doctors, and loaded the little fellow with comforts and luxuries."

"It must have cost him something," remarked Ralph.

"What did Clark care for that? His father was rich and gave him all the money he wanted. He had an account at a bank, and was heir to two aunts who doated on him and who were fabulously rich. I never saw a fellow take to heart the misfortunes of a poor little stranger as Clark did. The incident seemed to have changed his whole life. He sobered down wonderfully. He blamed himself for the whole thing, and took the whole responsibilities upon himself. Nearly all the time he was with Ernest, trying to cheer him up, hoping to find some way to make him well and strong and happy again."

"A royal good fellow, in fact, just as you said--I see that."

"Yes, sir," declared Fred staunchly. "Well, to continue: Clark's father and family were going to Europe. They had arranged for young Clark to go with them, but he wouldn't. Then there was a family council. Clark had not made much progress at school. He was fine at football, but no good at arithmetic. In fact, he was a disappointment to his father as a student. The old man, the academy professor, and the family lawyer, held a great consultation. Old man Clark came to a stern decision. It was planned out that young Clark should follow in the footsteps of his father and become a railroader. A regular arrangement was made. Clark was to have free pa.s.ses everywhere. He was to spend his entire vacation traveling over different railroad systems, while his folks were in Europe. Twice a week he was to send to the family lawyer reports of his progress, accompanied by vouchers showing that he had not wasted the time."

"I see," nodded Ralph; "also where you come in."