Ralph of the Roundhouse; Or, Bound to Become a Railroad Man

by Frank V. Webster

  CHAPTER XXXV--CONCLUSION

  Ralph stepped across the turntable entrance to the roundhouse at StanleyJunction just as the one o'clock whistles were blowing.

  It was like coming home again. Limpy, shining up a locomotiveheadlight, gave a croak of welcome, jumped down from the pilot, andslapped his greasy, blackened hand into that of his young favorite withgenuine fervor.

  The engineers, firemen and extras in the dog house called out the usualvariety of cheery chaff, but all pleasant and interested.

  "This is a great place to find friends!" smiled Ralph, and then hurriedhis steps, for the roundhouse foreman at that moment appeared at thedoor of his little office.

  "This way, Fairbanks," he hailed, quite eagerly. "Well," as he usheredRalph into the grimy sanctum, "back again, I see?"

  "Yes, Mr. Forgan," answered Ralph, "and glad to be here."

  "What news?"

  "About the stolen plunder," began Ralph.

  "Of course. That's the one considerable freight on my mind, just atpresent," acknowledged the foreman, with an anxious sigh. "We show amortgage on our inventory, and a big railroad system don't take kindlyto that sort of thing, you know."

  "Very well, Mr. Forgan," said Ralph brightly, "you can change yourinventory."

  "What! you don't mean----"

  "I have found the wagon load of brass fittings," answered Ralph. "Theyare in safe charge at the present time, subject to your order. Here ismy report to the special agent, Mr. Matthewson, and I guess, Mr. Forgan,I'm out of a job again, for I don't see anything further in sight."

  "Fairbanks, you're a trump!" shouted the delighted foreman, slapping theyoung railroader vigorously on the shoulder. "You've saved me someuneasiness, I can tell you! That your report?" with a glance at aneatly-directed envelope Ralph had produced. "Come with me. We want tocatch Matthewson before he gets away. He's going down to Springfieldthis afternoon--on your business, too."

  "On my business?" repeated Ralph. "That sounds like a good omen."

  "Don't you worry about omens, my young friend!" chuckled the foreman."You've about won your spurs, this time. How did you run across thatstolen stuff, when those smart, experienced specials never got a sniffof it?"

  "Quite by accident," replied Ralph. "I found Ike Slump. As near as Ican figure it out, he and his tramp friend had a breakdown near Dover.The tramp appears to have got discouraged or frightened, cut away withCohen's horses, sold them and decamped, leaving Ike in the lurch. Ikegot the wagonload over into a ravine to hide it till he could raft thestuff to a distance, and dispose of it and disappear, too. I nipped hisscheme just in time."

  Matthewson appeared as glad to see Ralph as Forgan had been. Heexpressed the liveliest satisfaction at the contents of the report Ralphhanded to him.

  "I think this will be a final spoke in the wheel of Mr. InspectorBardon," he said significantly. "Hope you attended to your writing andspelling in this report, Fairbanks?"

  "Why so?" inquired Ralph.

  "Because the president of the Great Northern is likely to see it beforenightfall," announced Matthewson, with a grim chuckle.

  The foreman and Ralph returned to the roundhouse. After a while BigDenny came in, full of animation and welcome. Ralph learned that Mrs.Slump was better, but hers was a sad household. The parents had aboutgiven up ever redeeming their scapegrace son from his evil ways, and thestricken mother insisted to her husband that they would never know goodluck again until he gave up selling strong drink.

  With a promise to come up to his house and see little Nora, "who soprettily says her prayers for you every night," Forgan told Ralph, theforeman allowed his friend to go home late in the afternoon.

  That was a quiet, happy evening at the Fairbanks homestead.

  It seemed to mother and son as though after a brave, patient strugglethey had reached some sublime height, from which they could look backover all difficulties overcome, and forward to golden promises for thefuture.

  Ralph valued the friends he had made in the railroad service and alsothe experience he had gained.

  There had been ups and downs. There was hard work ahead. But, brighterthan ever, shone the clear star of ambition at the top of the ladder ofthe railroad career.

  Ralph felt that he was in the hands of his friends, and could afford toawait their exertions in his behalf.

  The next day he was returning from a stroll, turning over in his mind aplan to learn Matthewson's decision as to what, if anything, the companywanted done with Ike Slump, and to make a visit to Farwell Gibson withthe joyful news that would make him a free man, when nearing home, Ralphhurried his steps at the sounds of animated conversation within thecottage.

  In the cozy little parlor sat his mother, and on a stool at her feet wasVan. His bright, ingenuous face was aglow with happiness, and he waschatting away to a loving, interested listener merry as a magpie.

  "Hello, there, Van Sherwin!" challenged Ralph, in mock severity. "Ican't have any prodigal son pushing me out of my place this way!"

  "I have two boys now," said Mrs. Fairbanks, with a proud smile, as thetwo manly young fellows joined hands in a brotherly welcome.

  "What brings you here?" was Ralph's first query.

  "Slump, mainly," answered Van.

  "What about him?"

  "Sloped, bag and baggage--and some of Mr. Gibson's baggage to boot. Heplayed it pretty fine on Mr. Gibson, who allowed him more liberty thanhe deserved. Yes, Ike cut out last night, and we thought you ought toknow about it at once."

  "That's right," nodded Ralph. "However, maybe it is better he shoulddrop out of the affair in just that way. It will save trouble andcomplications. He may sometime see the errors of his ways, and turnover a new leaf."

  "I doubt it," dissented Van. "I think he's an all-around bad one. Whatabout Mr. Gibson's business, if I may ask? He's terribly anxious."

  "Nothing but good news," answered Ralph heartily. "Mr. Gibson is freeto introduce the Dover & Springfield Short Line Railroad to the greattraveling public just as soon as he likes, now."

  "Bet you he'll have it running inside of a year!" predicted theexuberant Van. "Bet you in two I'm a first-class, bang-up locomotiveengineer, and you're master mechanic of the road!"

  "That's a far look into the future, Van," said Ralph, with an indulgentsmile. "Just now, I'm getting restless for work of 'most any kind--Iwish they would put me back in the roundhouse."

  There was a vigorous knock at the front door of the cottage at thatmoment.

  Mrs. Fairbanks answered the summons. She reentered the parlor holdingan envelope in one hand.

  "A telegram," she announced.

  "For me?" questioned Ralph, as she extended it towards him.

  "For you, Ralph."

  It was the first telegram Ralph Fairbanks had ever received, and, hismind on a working strain already, he looked conscious and expectant ashe opened it.

  The telegram was dated at Springfield, the headquarters of the road.

  It was signed: "James Blake, Master Mechanic."

  At a glance Ralph comprehended that the mission of his friend,Matthewson, had been successful.

  "The first step up the ladder!" he said, with shining eyes, to hismother and Van.

  The telegram read:

  "Ralph Fairbanks will report Monday morning at the roundhouse, StanleyJunction, for duty as a regularly appointed switch towerman on the GreatNorthern Railroad."

  THE END