"He acted so strange I was nearly frightened to death," narrated the lady. "The second day here I found him astride of the roof ordering some imaginary men to string it with wires. The next day a neighbor came running in to tell me that he was up on a telegraph pole with a little pocket clicker. My husband was away, I was frightened for the man's good as well as my own, and I had him taken in charge by the town marshal.

He'll treat him kindly till my husband returns, and Mr. Palmer will be in safe hands."

Ralph followed up this explanation by going at once to the marshal's headquarters. There was a low, one-story building with an office, and a barred room comfortably furnished beyond. The marshal listened to Ralph's story with interest.

"I'll be glad if you can make head or tail out of the old fellow," he said, and led the way into the barred room.

"h.e.l.lo!" exclaimed Ralph, with a violent start as he entered the apartment.

"Thunder! I say, where did you get him?" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Zeph Dallas, with an amazed stare.

Across a cot lay a man asleep. He wore a stained bandage across his head and was haggard and wretched looking.

"Oh, that?" replied the marshal. "That's mystery No. 2. That's a bigger puzzle than the old telegrapher. He's the man we picked up mad as a March hare, with twenty thousand dollars in banknotes in his pockets."

"Zeph," spoke Ralph in a quick whisper, "you know who it is?"

"Sure, I know who it is," responded Zeph with alacrity. "It's Rivers, the king bee of the pay car robbers."

CHAPTER x.x.xI

QUICK WORK

The young train dispatcher had made a momentous discovery. He beckoned Zeph to follow him on tiptoe so they should not disturb nor be seen by Rivers. They somewhat surprised the marshal by crowding out of the room.

"There's the queer old fellow, Palmer, you asked about," said the official, pointing to a form occupied at a table at the other end of the room. "Don't you want to see him?"

"No, not just now," replied Ralph, drawing the man confidentially to one side. "We have not come here out of curiousity, but on a question of great importance. I represent the Great Northern Railroad, and you can help us very greatly."

"Can I? Good. I'll do it, then," instantly answered the marshal. "I'm not used to having such heavy cases as those two in there, and they pester me."

"Tell us about the man who seems hurt and sick."

"Why, he was brought in a few nights since by our man who watches the rivermen. They're a rough, bad lot. He found this man on a carouse in one of their haunts. Showing all kinds of money. He watched them, and jumped in just as they attacked the man and were about to rob him. We found over twenty thousand dollars in bank notes on the man--think of that! Only once since then has he entirely recovered from that cut on his head, and refused to give his name or say a word, except that his money came from a gold mine."

"Yes, a gold mine on wheels," observed Zeph pointedly.

"The man's mind is affected by the blow he got, and only a few minutes at a time has he been rational. He offered me all his money if I'd let him go. Funny thing, though; in one of his spells early this morning I found him whispering to old Palmer."

"Did you?" pressed Zeph eagerly.

"The old man ain't right, you know, but he sticks to that click-clack contrivance all the time. I watched the two, and the prisoner promised Palmer all kinds of things if he'd get free and send a certain message to a certain party, or somehow get the telegram sent. Well, since then the old man has been terribly busy with his play telegraph device, and excited, too. About an hour since he calls me to him, and says he will certainly get me a thousand dollars if I will take a message to the operator here. Only ten words, he says--one hundred dollars a word. I told him I wouldn't do anything until the sheriff came back tomorrow. He said only ten words. I asked him what ten words, and he shot out a lot of gibberish I couldn't take in."

"A cypher telegram," murmured Zeph.

"Well, I left it that way."

"Let me lurk around a bit, will you?" inquired Ralph.

"Certainly," a.s.sented the marshal.

For the next ten minutes Ralph, hidden in a corner of the detention room, posted himself and listened. When he came out his face was excited and eager.

"Don't let those prisoners send out a word or see a single person until I come back to you," he directed the marshal.

"All right. Found out something?"

"I think I have. I'll know for sure inside of six hours."

"And let me know, too. You see all this bothersome mystery is worrying me."

"You first of all," declared Ralph, "and you won't lose by cooperating with us."

"I see you're smart boys," observed the inexperienced marshal, "and I trust in your word to straighten out this tangle."

"What, Ralph?" broke in Zeph eagerly, as they left the place.

"I think I've got the clew."

"To what?"

"The whole pay car business--at least the start of one."

"Tell me about it."

"I simply listened to Glen's grandfather at his dummy ticker. Poor old man! He fancies he is being sought for by great railroad systems all over the world to take charge of their business. He ticked off all kinds of telegrams to important people. Then I caught the thread of a message he seemed to have particularly on his mind. It is just ten words, and of course must be the one he wanted the marshal to send. There it is."

Ralph showed a card on the back of which he had penciled down the following words:

"Rajah Sun and Moon Aeroplane Spectacles exemplar. Pardon Star Mudji."

Quick as a flash Zeph hauled out the written screed he had acquired while in the company of the conspirators. It comprised the formula of their cypher code.

"Advise Jem and Parsons," he translated at once. "Barn loft plunder. Get me bail." "Who to, Ralph?" he inquired eagerly--"the telegram."

"Mrs. Hannah Clifton, Dunbar Station."

"A relative, I'll bet. You're right, we've got the clew! 'Barn loft plunder.' Ralph, Dunbar Station, quick!"

"Yes," said the young dispatcher quietly, "that's our terminus, as quick as we can make it."

Ralph's special pa.s.s furnished him by the road officer came in good.

It brought them a lift on an urgency locomotive and another on the tender of the Daylight Express. At three o'clock that afternoon after due inquiry the two friends approached a house in a lonely settlement at the edge of Dunbar Station.