Ralph in the Switch Tower; Or, Clearing the Track

by Frank V. Webster

  CHAPTER XII--THE SUPERINTENDENT'S OPINION

  It seemed as if the escaped circus tiger had disputed the intrusion ofYoung Slavin just as it had previously that of Ralph.

  Whether his belligerent enemy had tried to beat off the animal, or ithad attacked Slavin as he attempted to ascend the ladder, Ralph couldnot tell. One thing was sure, however: the impetuous "champeen" foundhimself in the mix-up of his life.

  The tiger was growling and snarling. Slavin was uttering muffled shoutsof terror and pain. Ralph fairly dropped down half a dozen rungs of theladder.

  The wrench with which he had armed himself was heavy, and had a verylong handle. Six feet from the floor of the lower tower room, Ralphleaned as far out as he could, holding on to the ladder by one foot andone hand.

  Swinging the wrench in the other hand and watching his opportunity,Ralph landed a sturdy whack directly on top of the head of theinfuriated tiger.

  The blow was severe enough to crack the skull of a human being. Thetiger, however, only ducked its head and sneezed, but it relaxed itshold of Slavin.

  Ralph saw its great paw cut the air in one lightning-like downwardstroke. He saw Slavin, with a curdling shriek, bound through thedoorway like a ball. Then the tiger turned, caught sight of his newassailant, and crouched with a malignant snarl, posing for a spring.

  Ralph took aim. He let go of the heavy wrench, using it as a missilenow. It struck the tiger squarely between the eyes, throwing the animaloff its balance. Then with due agility Ralph shot up the ladder like asteeple-jack.

  Once in the tower room he closed the trap and fastened it down. Aglance from its window showed some commotion in the yards round about.

  A wild, tattered figure was scudding in frenzy for the street. It wasYoung Slavin. He was hatless, and, from neck to heel down his back,every garment he wore was ripped exactly in two as if slashedscientifically by a butcher-knife.

  This envelope of tatters and Slavin's fearful outcries had attracted theattention of flagmen, engineers, and brakemen in the vicinity. Theyshouted after the scurrying fugitive, they even tried to head him offfor an explanation. Slavin, however, lost to reason for the moment,made a mad bee-line for Railroad Street, and disappeared behind somefreight sheds.

  Ralph hailed a roundhouse hand carrying a bucket of oil.

  "Shut the lower door, will you?" he asked.

  The man did so. It operated on a spring, and all he had to do was todetach a hook from a staple that held it open.

  "Slip the padlock," continued Ralph.

  "Why, that will lock you in!" exclaimed the bewildered oilman.

  "That's all right," answered Ralph. "Thanks."

  He smiled to himself as he answered some switch calls. The smilebroadened as he ran over the exciting incidents of the hour.

  Young Slavin was probably more scared than hurt. In his muddledcondition, amid the semi-darkness of the lower tower room he might nothave discerned or realized what had attacked him.

  "He will report me a demon, and his friends will think me one, if heshows up in those tatters, laying his plight to my charge," smiledRalph. "Well, I fancy 'the young Hercules' has got all the satisfactionhe wants for the present."

  In about fifteen minutes Ralph leaned from the window to greet a coteriehe had been expecting for some time.

  Stiggs, placid-faced and leisurely as usual, led a party Ralph had seengrouped around the circus cages on the street tracks at noon.

  The six menagerie men still carried their equipment for capturing theescaped tiger: pikes, hooks, halter chain, and muzzle.

  The manager, his hat stuck back on his head, nervously chewing a matchand urging Stiggs to hurry, looked very much excited.

  "Come, can't you hustle a bit?" Ralph heard him say to Stiggs. "Where'syour tiger?"

  Stiggs pointed up to the switch tower.

  "What are you giving me?" demanded the circus manager indisgust--"that's a boy."

  "He sent me--he knows where the tiger is," asserted Stiggs.

  "Oh, that's it. Young man!" called up the circus manager. "Do you knowthis man?"

  "Very intimately. I sent him to you. I have located your escapedanimal, as he told you, I presume?" said Ralph.

  "He did. It's true, then?" cried the circus manager eagerly. "Where isthe brute?"

  "Mr. Stiggs," called down Ralph, "are these people going to pay you foryour trouble?"

  "Oh, sure," replied Stiggs animatedly. "See there--they gave me a wholepackage of tobacco."

  Ralph regarded the simple-minded railroad pensioner pityingly. He fixeda censorious glance on the circus manager. The latter flushed andlooked embarrassed.

  "He said that was all he wanted," stammered the man.

  "Oh, well, that won't do at all," declared Ralph. "Your animal has donesome damage--in fact, came very nearly doing a great deal of damage.Besides that, Mr. Stiggs is a poor man. You offered a liberal rewardfor the capture of the animal this morning, I believe. Does that offerstand good now?"

  A little crowd had been drawn to the spot by the presence of such anunusual group. Among them was a young fellow who had kept with theparty since it had started out.

  The circus manager knew this young man to be a reporter on the localpaper, in the quest of a sensation. He could not risk an effective freeadvertisement by an exhibition of niggardliness on the part of theproprietors of the circus.

  "Sure," he said importantly; "our people spare no expense in catering tothe great show-going public. They spent six thousand dollars in cagingthe famous Calcutta Tom, the wonder of the animal universe, and--

  "You went over all that this noon," said Ralph, in a business-like way."What about the fifty dollars?"

  "Have you got the tiger?"

  "I have," answered Ralph definitely.

  "Produce him, and the money is yours."

  "Very good," nodded Ralph, tossing down the key to the padlock of thelower door. "You will find the escaped animal downstairs here."

  The local reporter made himself unduly active within the ensuing thirtyminutes. He had written up Ralph Fairbanks once before. That was whenthe young railroader had acted as substitute fireman during the big firein the yards at Acton, as already related in "Ralph of the Roundhouse."

  Ralph had proven "good copy" in that instance. The fact of his havingthe escaped animal in custody, the litter of glass under the towerwindows, some vague remarks of the flagman who had witnessed Ralph'ssensational ascent of the telegraph pole, set the young reporter on thetrail of a first-class story in a very few minutes.

  The circus manager and his assistants soon had Calcutta Tom in fetters.As they pulled him out into daylight the manager cuffed and kicked himtill the animal slunk along, spiritless and harmless as some antiquatedhorse.

  He drew out a roll of bank bills, counted out fifty dollars, made surethe reporter was noticing the act, and with a flourish tossed the moneyup to Ralph.

  He wrote out a free pass to the show for Stiggs, slapping him on theshoulder and calling him a royal good fellow.

  "Don't know if the railroad company can spare me," said Stiggs, shakinghis head slowly.

  "Come up here, Mr. Stiggs," said Ralph.

  Jack Knight came along from the limits tower just then. He was haltedby the reporter. Stiggs joined Ralph a few minutes later.

  "I want to tell you, Mr. Stiggs, about this fifty dollars' reward fromthe circus people," began Ralph.

  "Yes, glad you got it, Fairbanks," said Stiggs heartily. "If it wasn'tfor you I wouldn't have got the tobacco."

  "Well, I want you to tell Mrs. Stiggs when you go home that I've gottwenty-five dollars for her," went on Ralph.

  "My! that's a lot of money," exclaimed the old railroad pensioner,opening wide his eyes. "Say, Fairbanks, that would stock me up withtobacco for the rest of my life!"

  Knight came through the trap, the local reporter at his heels.

  "What's been going on here?" demanded the veteran towerman, with aglance at the brok
en window panes.

  Ralph glanced at the reporter. That individual had a paper tab in hishand all covered with notes, and looked eager and expectant.

  "If our friend here will excuse our attention to railroad businessstrictly, I will try to tell you," said Ralph.

  "Certainly," nodded the reporter, but disappointedly, as Ralph tookKnight to the end of the room and a low-toned conversation ensued.

  The same was interspersed with sensational, startling ejaculations ofwild excitement, such a vivid play of interest and wonder on the part ofold Jack, that the reporter wriggled in a kind of professional torment.He knew that Ralph must have a graphic story to relate.

  "Mr. Fairbanks," he said anxiously, as the two terminated theirconversation, "I hope you will give me a brief interview."

  "Really, I couldn't think of it," answered Ralph, with a genial smile."A tiger escaped from the circus and hid in the switch tower. That'sabout the facts of the case."

  "You're a deal too modest," snorted old Jack. "You see, he's a sticklerfor railroad ethics," he explained to the reporter. "Well, that's allright in a young man, for the company usually want to give out their ownreports to the press. In this instance, though, I don't think they willhold back the credit young Fairbanks deserves. You come with me, youngman, and as soon as I report to the superintendent, I think you can getthe facts for the liveliest railroad sensation you have had in StanleyJunction for many a long day."

  Ralph had no right to interfere with this arrangement.

  Knight came back in thirty minutes, chuckling gleesomely.

  "Shake, old man!" he called out, grasping Ralph's hand with aswitch-lever clutch that would have made his assistant wince a weekback. "I guaranteed you to the company when they put you on here. Theman with the iron mask just thanked me for it. Thanked me for it, justthink of it--and smiled!"

  "Who is the man with the iron mask?" asked Ralph innocently.

  "The superintendent, of course. Ever see him? Well, they say he wasborn with a frown on his face, called down his father and mother when hewas six months old, and spent ten years at a special actors' schoolwhere they learn the ebony glare, the tones that chill a fellow, andthat grand stern air that makes a railroad employee shake in his bootswhen the superintendent passes by."

  "Why, I have found him rather dignified, but a thoroughly just andgenial gentleman," said Ralph.

  "Thank you, Fairbanks!" interrupted a voice that made the two friendsstart, and the head of the superintendent of the Great Northern came upthrough the trap. "Quite a word-painter, Mr. Knight!" he continued,glancing at old Jack with a grim twinkle in his eye.

  "Ah, overheard me, did you?" retorted Knight, never abashed at anything."You didn't wait till I got through. I was going to add, for thebenefit of our young friend here, that all the qualities I wasdescribing have made you the most consistent, thoroughgoing railroaderin the country, that back of the mask were more pensions to deservingdisabled employees than the law allowed, and a justice and respect forloyal subordinates that made you an honorary member of our union, andthe Great Northern the finest railway system ever perfected."

  "Thank you, Mr. Knight!" retorted the superintendent, a genuine flush ofpleasure on his face. "I know you are sincere, so you will join me, Iam certain, in telling our young friend that the risk he took to savethe special this day entitled him to a high place in the esteem of hisemployers and associates."

  "Right you are, sir!" answered Knight emphatically. "I'm proud of RalphFairbanks--and so are you."