"Thank you again," said Ralph, and as Ted darted away he gave his full attention to the note. It ran:

"Ralph Fairbanks:

"Will you please come to the place where the bearer of this note will direct you, and oblige. I have some money for you.

--Glen Palmer."

"Well, well," said Ralph in a pleased way, "this is pretty quick action on the part of our young chicken raiser. Of course I'll go. Glen Palmer is straight, as I thought he would be. I'm curious to know how he came out with his investment, and doubly curious to learn something about that mysterious old grandfather of his."

Ralph did not need any guide to reach the elevated tracks and the old switch tower shanty alluded to by Ted Rollins. The spot had been a busy one before they straightened out a lot of useless curves and changed the main line a half mile farther south. The old main tracks, however, were still used for switching and standing freights, and there were several grain elevators in the vicinity. It was now a remote and isolated spot so far as general traffic was concerned.

Ralph crossed over a stretch of bleak prairie, leaped a drainage ditch, and started down a siding that was used as a repair track. Just as he reached the end of a freight car he hastened his steps.

Not fifty yards distant two animated figures suddenly filled his range of vision. They were boys. One was Glen Palmer. The other Ralph was amazed to recognize as Ike Slump.

Glen had a broken-off broom in one hand and a bag pretty well filled over his shoulder. He was warding off the approach of Slump, who seemed bent on pestering him from malice or robbing him for profit. Ralph ran forward to the rescue of his young protege, who was no match in strength or size for the bully.

He was not in time to prevent a sharp climax to the scene. Glen swung the heavy bag he carried around to deal his tormenter a blow. Slump either drew a knife or had one concealed up his sleeve all along. At any rate he caught the circling bag on the fly. The knife blade met its bulging surface and slit it woefully, so that a stream of golden grain poured out.

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself!" burst out Glen Palmer, indignantly.

"Strangers pay toll around here, or I know the reason," derided bad Ike Slump.

"Just drop that, Slump," spoke Ralph, stepping forward.

"Humph!" growled Ike, retreating a step or two and looking rather embarra.s.sed. "I didn't expect you."

"I see you didn't," observed Ralph. "This petty business doesn't seem to accord very well with your high pretentions of last evening."

"He has wasted all my grain!" cried Glen, tears starting to his eyes.

"He said I'd have to pay toll to the gang, whatever that is, if I came around here gathering up chicken feed, and the flagman yonder has given me permission to sweep out all the cars after they have emptied at the elevators."

"Don't worry," said Ralph, rea.s.suringly. "I will see to it that you are not interfered with, that your rights are respected after this."

"Huh!" scoffed Ike, and then with a great start and in a sharp change of voice he shouted out, "h.e.l.lo, I say, h.e.l.lo!"

Ike stood staring fixedly at Glen at the moment. The latter in rearranging his disordered attire for the first time had removed the broad peaked cap he wore. The instant he caught Ike's piercing glance fixed upon him, Glen flushed and in great haste replaced the cap, quite screening his face and turned away.

"Aha!" resumed Ike, continuing to stare at Glen. "Why, when, where--drat me!" and he struck his head with his hand, as if trying to drive out some puzzling idea. "Say, I've seen you before. Where? I never forget faces. Wallop me! but I know you, and--"

Just then Slump was walloped. The flagman at the shanty one hundred feet away had evidently witnessed the tussle between the two boys. That he was a friend to Glen was indisputable, for coming upon the scene from between two lines of freight he pounced on Slump, whacking him smartly about his legs with his flag stick.

"You pestering loafer, out of here," he shouted, "or I'll break every bone in your body," and Slump ran down the track precipitately.

He paused only once, at a safe distance from pursuit. It was to shake his fist at the watchman, then to wave it in a kind of threatening triumph at Ralph, and then to make a speaking trumpet of his hand and to yell through it.

"I know that boy, don't you forget it, and I'll see you later."

Ralph wondered a good deal at this demonstration. Then he turned to Glen.

"Why," he exclaimed, noticing that the face of the latter was as white as chalk and that he was trembling all over. "What's the matter, Glen?"

"I--that--is that fellow upset me," stammered Glen, failing to meet Ralph's scrutinizing glance.

"Something more than that, Glen," insisted Ralph. "You act half scared to death. Do you know Ike Slump?"

"No."

"Did you ever meet him before?"

"Never," declared Glen strenuously.

Ralph had to be satisfied with this. Glen turned from him as if to hide some emotion or embarra.s.sment. He began tying up his bag so as to cover the slit made in it by Slump's knife and scooped up the scattered grain.

"Wait till I get this gathered up and I want to talk with you," he said.

A new figure came lounging leisurely down the track as the watchman proceeded to his shanty. Ralph recognized Dan Lacey, a ne'er-do-well who had tried about every department of railroad service inside of two years and had failed signally in every attempt.

He was a good-natured, indolent fellow, perfectly harmless and generally popular. He halted in front of Ralph with a speculative glance at Glen Palmer.

"Howdy, Fairbanks," he hailed. "Say, pet of yours yonder, I understand."

"Who--Glen Palmer?"

"Yes, that's his name."

"He seems to be a fine young fellow I helped out a little."

"Always doing that. Know him pretty well?"

"Hardly at all."

"Well," drawled Lacey taking in Glen with a continuous a.n.a.lyzing glance, "he's a cracker jack."

"What do you mean, Lacey?"

"Telegraphy. I've seen some pretty swell operators in my time, but that kid--say, believe me, Fairbanks, he's got the last one of them backed clear off the board."

CHAPTER IX

A SUSPICIOUS DISCOVERY

"Explain yourself, Lacey," directed the young railroader.

"Nothing to explain--it's exactly as I say. That lad's a wonder."