Ralph in the Switch Tower; Or, Clearing the Track

by Frank V. Webster

  CHAPTER XVIII--A DESPERATE CHANCE

  "Gasper Farrington again!" cried Ralph.

  His thoughts ran rapidly. At a good many turns of late, it seemed, themiserly magnate of Stanley Junction was coming into his life.

  To Ralph the solution of the present problem was prompt and logical:Farrington probably had the unfortunate Mrs. Davis in his power. He hadhired Mort Bemis and Ike Slump to kidnap her. Now he himself was at themercy and in the clutches of his conscienceless confederates.

  Ralph theorized that he had paid his accomplices a goodly sum of moneyfor their assistance. For a time, with plenty of ready cash in theirpossession, they had found diversion in the city. The longing to cut adash at home, however, had brought them back to Stanley Junction.

  It looked as if Slump had set a price for his silence and secrecyregarding the magnate's schemes. He had probably demanded thatFarrington go on his bail bond, and afterwards stand back of him in thetrial with his wealth and influence.

  "I am very much obliged to you for what you have told me, Slavin," saidRalph at last. "Also for your kindly intentions toward me. If I wereyou, though, I wouldn't go getting into trouble with those two fellows."

  "Trouble?" cried Slavin wrathfully. "I want to get back my medals. Say,if those fellows who stole them have sold them where I can't get them,or melted them down, I'll pretty near cripple them for life. But youmind what I came to tell you. They hate you, and they'll try and trapyou. So, you watch out close. As I say, I'll do the rest. I'm going."

  "Good-night, Slavin," answered Ralph, extending his hand.

  Slavin started at the sight of it. He flushed, looked pleased, and hisbig broad paw shot out.

  "You honor me," he said, "and I'm proud of it. Oh, say--'sense!'sense!"

  "Excuse what?" demanded Ralph calmly, with a twinkle in his eye.

  Slavin had unconsciously given Ralph the crushing hand-shake that usedto lay up unsuspicious new acquaintances for a week. To his surprisethe grip was returned with equal force. Ralph did not even wince.

  "You're a good one," pronounced Slavin, in genuine admiration. "Ithought I'd hurt you."

  "Pulling those levers is a great muscle-builder," explained Ralph.

  "Looks so, in your case," admitted Slavin. "Say," he added, in a kindof longing sigh, his eyes sparkling as they ran the grim battery ofswitch pullers--"there's my ambition in life."

  "What's that, Slavin--tower duty?"

  "Oh, anything in the railroad line, from pulling up piles to drivingspikes," declared Slavin, swinging his big arms about restlessly."There's no bad in me. I'd love to work. Only, you see, I was bornstrong, and something has kept me pushing my muscle to the fore. It ledto encouraging me to be a bruiser. I tell you, if I had a job likethis, where I could work off the extra steam, I'd just make a record."

  "Then--why not?" inquired Ralph.

  "You mean, why not get the job?" exclaimed Slavin in an eager breath.

  "Exactly."

  "Would they have me?"

  "Again, why not?" said Ralph--"if you are in earnest."

  "Oh, am I!"

  "I'll speak to Mr. Knight. I will do more. I will ask the depot masterto take your application, Slavin," said Ralph earnestly, laying a gentlehand on the big fellow's shoulder, "you have shown yourself a manto-night. Keep it up, and"--Ralph smiled significantly as he quotedSlavin's own recent words--"I'll do the rest."

  Slavin dashed an impetuous hand across his eyes. They had filled with asuspicious moisture. He evidently could not trust himself to speakfurther, for as he started down the trap ladder he only waved Ralph aclumsy, silent adieu.

  The episode of Young Slavin's visit had been a pleasant diversion to themonotony of the hour Ralph pulled the out switch for the 12.15 mail.Then he sat down again and finished his lunch.

  The storm raged on with unabated fury. There was nothing to do nowuntil morning except to watch out for the night express and the regularfreight.

  The express, Ralph knew, was stalled by a wash-out beyond Acton.Naturally the freight, blocked behind it, could not get through untilthe road was cleared. Ralph walked up and down the tower for exercise.Suddenly he threw up a window.

  Some moving lanterns over on the repair trade attracted his attention.Their flare and that of the lightning showed him three men getting ahandcar in to service. One of them ran up to the tower and made atrumpet of his hands.

  "Give us the out track," he called.

  "All right," answered Ralph

  "Train ditched--wrecking crew ordered out."

  "Yes, I know--the wash-out at Acton," said Ralph--"the in express."

  "No, the outmail--just beyond the limits."

  "What!" cried Ralph in a startled tone.

  He kept at the levers until he saw the handcar speed safely down themain rails. Then he ran to the telephone and called up the limitstower.

  There was no action, and no response.

  "That's bad," murmured Ralph--"fuse burned out. The lightning has putthe 'phone out of commission. I wish I understood things straight. Twotrains delayed by the wash-out. The mail ditched. Bad shape allaround, this, for such a night."

  Ralph wished he could run up to the dispatcher's office and get moreinformation at the depot. This he dared not do, however. He paced upand down restlessly, wondering how serious the mishap to the mail mightbe.

  It was precisely one o'clock when the dial hand moved with a kind of anelectric tang. It circled and then shot back, as if directed by anerratic hand.

  Ralph watched it intently. That dial disc was his only present reliablecommunication with the outside railroad world. The pointer vibrated,then halted.

  "Through freight, track 7," it directed.

  "Why," exclaimed Ralph, "that can't be! The through freight is stalledat Acton behind the express, and--why, she's coming now!"

  He could hardly believe his eyes. Usually a minute and a half elapsedbefore a train announced at the limits showed coming around the curve.

  Now, boring the water-laden air with a quiver that showed full speed, agreat laboring headlight glared along the in tracks.

  Had Ralph caught her sooner, he could have switched onto any one of thehalf a dozen tracks which were empty. She was now past all the mainswitches, however, except the in passenger track 7 and inside 6.

  "It is No. 3, the through freight, sure enough," said Ralph, recognizingthe approaching train with the intuitive sense of experience. Theheadlight, the sway of the ponderous locomotive, the very sound of thelong train, vague as it was, told a sure story to his practiced eye andear.

  "She must have got around the wash-out and ahead of the express," saidRalph. "Why, there's some mistake at the limits. She should have beengiven the long freight siding, and she has passed it, and--track 7. It'sin use!"

  Ralph, darting to the levers, uttered these words in a great hollowshout.

  Lever 7, operating the switches of that set of rails, had a card hung toits handle. These cards were always used nights as a guide to thelevermen, where any special, extra, or transient cars, passenger orfreight, were stationary.

  The sight of the card recalled a startling fact to Ralph: at the depotend of track 7 lay the occupied tourist car of an Uncle Tom's Cabintheatrical troupe which was then visiting Stanley Junction.

  "Something wrong at limits--everything wrong here!" panted Ralph, hisheart suddenly beating like a trip-hammer. "What shall I do?"

  He shot a glance at the nearing headlight. Relying on limits signals,evidently expecting the long freight siding, in the darkness and stormtaking no note of outside switches, and behind time, those in charge ofthe through freight had nearly full speed set.

  Ralph felt the blood leave his face. Through his mind in rapid sequenceran the plat of switches at the depot yards.

  "No. 6, or destruction!" he gasped. "I've got to make the choice. It'sthe only track open. Open--no!" he added, with a new thrill ofapprehension, "but--there's no other way."


  He pulled the lever that would send the through freight down track 6.Then a wild tumult seized him. He darted for the trap. He almost fellthe length of the iron-runged ladder. Then Ralph sprang through thedoorway and tore across the tracks.

  Track 6 was not empty. At its bumpered end were three old emptyfreights. Ralph, however, counted their destruction as of littleconsequence as compared with a crash on track 7 into the theatre car,holding perhaps a dozen sleeping inmates. He had made an independentchoice. He had saved them. Now, if possible, to save the freight trainfrom a collision!

  As he passed the switch he tore from a pivot the signal lantern restingthere. Carrying it in his arms, he dashed forward diagonally to meetthe rushing freight. Extending its red slide, he waved frantically upand down and across, yelling at the top of his voice.

  The locomotive of the through freight whizzed by him. In the blur ofrain and radiance Ralph fancied a grizzled head was poked out throughthe cab window. At all events he caught the quick, harsh whistle of theair brakes. A jolt shook the long freights. His signal had beenobserved.

  Following the locomotive with his eye, Ralph saw, three hundred yardsfurther on, a figure suddenly cleave the air. The engineer had put onfull stop brakes and had jumped.

  The train was slowing up. Would she stop in time? Car after carwhirled by. Then crash! Far ahead, the last car past him, Ralph caughtthe ominous sound, and shivered and gasped.