"h.e.l.lo!"

"Don't move!" ordered the telegraph operator in an irascible tone of voice. "We're in it deep, it seems. Hand over that bunch of rope near the stove, Mason."

"What are you going to do?"

"Cut for it. I know this fellow, and he isn't here for nothing. Our game's blown, or it will be. You needn't squirm," he directed at Ralph.

"There's two of us now."

Ralph's hands were tied in front of him and his feet secured, as well.

It was only half-heartedly, however, that Mason a.s.sisted. He was pale and scared.

"Throw him across those blamed instruments, so they will keep quiet,"

ordered Grizzly.

Ralph was roughly thrown upon the table, face downward, so that the relay was just under his waist. His weight against the armature stopped the clicking of the sounder. The two men grouped together in a corner, conversing rapidly and excitedly in undertones.

As luck would have it, Ralph's left hand was in such a position that it just touched the key. He opened the key and pretended to be struggling quite a little.

Grizzly came over and gave him a push in the ribs.

"You keep quiet, or I'll find a way to make you," he said, with a fierce scowl.

Ralph became pa.s.sive again. As the conspirators resumed their conversation, however, he began to telegraph softly on the west main line, which was clear. His objective point was Tipton.

It was here, within the next hour, that the Limited mail would arrive and, farther on, take the Preston cut-off for twenty miles, unless stopped. The relay being shut off by his weight, there was no noise from the sounder, and he sent so slowly that the key was noiseless. Ralph did not know on whom he was breaking in, but he kept on. He told the exact state of affairs, repeated the message twice, and trusted to luck. Then his last clickings went over the wire:

"T.B.I. T.I.S.--Hold the Limited Mail. Answer quick."

CHAPTER XIV

OLD 93

The west wire was open, sure enough, and Ralph had accomplished his purpose. He knew it, and he felt a thrill of satisfaction as he heard the sharp tic-tac that announced the receipt of his message. He had raised up off the sounder.

"L. M. due at 11:53. Will hold--9," and 9, Ralph well knew, meant train orders. He had stirred up a hornet's nest for the conspirators, present and absent, and headquarters would soon get busy in running down the plot of the night.

"He's done it!" almost shrieked Grizzly, as the return message conveyed to his expert ear the sure token that Ralph had shrewdly, secretly out-rivaled him. "Did you send a message?" he yelled, jumping at Ralph, both fists raised warningly, while his eyes glared with baffled fury.

"That is what I am here for," replied the young railroader tranquilly.

"You had better try and undo what you have already done."

Bang! Seizing an iron bar, the maddened operator smashed into the open west wire, as if that did any good. Then he grabbed at Ralph and threw him brutally to the floor. His foot was raised, as if to wreak a cruel vengeance upon his defenseless victim, but his companion interposed.

"See here, Grizzly," he shouted, s.n.a.t.c.hing up the tool bag and making for the door, "I'm shy!"

The operator bent his head towards the instrument, now clicking away urgently and busily, growled out like a caged tiger, and ran to his desk and ripped open drawer after drawer.

Ralph watched him poke papers and other personal belongings into his pockets. With a final snarl at Ralph, he made after Mason.

"It's a big jump, and a quick one," Ralph heard him say to his hurrying companion, as they bolted down the stairs, "but a thousand dollars goes a long way."

Their footsteps faded away. Ralph was now alone. He listened intently to the messages going over the wires. O.S. messages, consists, right of track orders began to fly in every direction, while ever and constantly from headquarters came the keen imperative hail:

"R.S.--R.S.--sine."

"I've got no 'sine' and nothing to say," replied Ralph, half humorously, despite his forlorn situation. "It's wait for somebody now, and somebody will be along soon--sure enough!"

It was old Glidden who broke in upon the solitude first. He came up the outside stairs in big jumps and burst into the operating room breathless, his eyes agog.

"h.e.l.lo! H'm! thought something wrong. Up with you, Fairbanks," he shouted, pulling at Ralph and tearing him free from his bonds. "Now, then, out with it, quick! What's up?"

"Foul play."

"I guessed it. The double call enlightened me, and you've got headquarters and down lines wild. Out with it, I say!"

Ralph talked about as fast as he had ever done. There was need for urgency, he felt that. The old operator knew his business.

"I'll mend up this mess," he said promptly. "That smashup--get to the superintendent. Do something anyway. Be a live wire!"

Ralph ran down from the relay room. He could trust Glidden to get at work and straighten out the tangle left behind by the fugitive conspirators.

The north branch was cut out and the operator ordered off duty. Ralph trusted to it that Glidden would try some circuitous work to get word around to the other end of the branch.

"Anyhow, the Limited is safe," ruminated Ralph, as he reached the ground.

His first thought was to get to headquarters. He looked for some stray freight or switch locomotive to help him on his way. He made out a live one on a side track. Ralph ran over to it.

"h.e.l.lo, Roberts!" he hailed, recognizing the fireman, and a jolly-faced, indolent looking young fellow smiled a welcome. "Going to the Junction?"

"Exactly the other way."

Ralph, his foot on the step of the tender, drew back disappointedly.

"Waiting for Bob Evers. He's my engineer," explained Roberts. "We're to run to Acton, over the old dumping tracks--north branch."

"What!" exclaimed Ralph eagerly. "Right away?"

"No, any time; so we report at 5 a. m. for a short haul on the north branch."

"Look here, Roberts," said the young railroader eagerly, "you think I understand my business?"

"Know it, Fairbanks," nodded the fireman.

"When will Evers be here?"