Chapter XXXI: Quick Work

The young train dispatcher had made a momentous discovery. He beckoned Zeph to follow him on tiptoe so they should not disturb nor be seen by Rivers. They somewhat surprised the marshal by crowding out of the room.

"There's the queer old fellow, Palmer, you asked about," said the official, pointing to a form occupied at a table at the other end of the room. "Don't you want to see him?"

"No, not just now," replied Ralph, drawing the man confidentially to one side. "We have not come here out of curiousity, but on a question of great importance. I represent the Great Northern Railroad, and you can help us very greatly."

"Can I? Good. I'll do it, then," instantly answered the marshal. "I'm not used to having such heavy cases as those two in there, and they pester me."

"Tell us about the man who seems hurt and sick."

"Why, he was brought in a few nights since by our man who watches the rivermen. They're a rough, bad lot. He found this man on a carouse in one of their haunts. Showing all kinds of money. He watched them, and jumped in just as they attacked the man and were about to rob him. We found over twenty thousand dollars in bank notes on the man--think of that! Only once since then has he entirely recovered from that cut on his head, and refused to give his name or say a word, except that his money came from a gold mine."

"Yes, a gold mine on wheels," observed Zeph pointedly.

"The man's mind is affected by the blow he got, and only a few minutes at a time has he been rational. He offered me all his money if I'd let him go. Funny thing, though; in one of his spells early this morning I found him whispering to old Palmer."

"Did you?" pressed Zeph eagerly.

"The old man ain't right, you know, but he sticks to that click-clack contrivance all the time. I watched the two, and the prisoner promised Palmer all kinds of things if he'd get free and send a certain message to a certain party, or somehow get the telegram sent. Well, since then the old man has been terribly busy with his play telegraph device, and excited, too. About an hour since he calls me to him, and says he will certainly get me a thousand dollars if I will take a message to the operator here. Only ten words, he says--one hundred dollars a word. I told him I wouldn't do anything until the sheriff came back tomorrow. He said only ten words. I asked him what ten words, and he shot out a lot of gibberish I couldn't take in."

"A cypher telegram," murmured Zeph.

"Well, I left it that way."

"Let me lurk around a bit, will you?" inquired Ralph.

"Certainly," assented the marshal.

For the next ten minutes Ralph, hidden in a corner of the detention room, posted himself and listened. When he came out his face was excited and eager.

"Don't let those prisoners send out a word or see a single person until I come back to you," he directed the marshal.

"All right. Found out something?"

"I think I have. I'll know for sure inside of six hours."

"And let me know, too. You see all this bothersome mystery is worrying me."

"You first of all," declared Ralph, "and you won't lose by cooeperating with us."

"I see you're smart boys," observed the inexperienced marshal, "and I trust in your word to straighten out this tangle."

"What, Ralph?" broke in Zeph eagerly, as they left the place.

"I think I've got the clew."

"To what?"

"The whole pay car business--at least the start of one."

"Tell me about it."

"I simply listened to Glen's grandfather at his dummy ticker. Poor old man! He fancies he is being sought for by great railroad systems all over the world to take charge of their business. He ticked off all kinds of telegrams to important people. Then I caught the thread of a message he seemed to have particularly on his mind. It is just ten words, and of course must be the one he wanted the marshal to send. There it is."

Ralph showed a card on the back of which he had penciled down the following words:

"Rajah Sun and Moon Aeroplane Spectacles exemplar. Pardon Star Mudji."

Quick as a flash Zeph hauled out the written screed he had acquired while in the company of the conspirators. It comprised the formula of their cypher code.

"Advise Jem and Parsons," he translated at once. "Barn loft plunder. Get me bail." "Who to, Ralph?" he inquired eagerly--"the telegram."

"Mrs. Hannah Clifton, Dunbar Station."

"A relative, I'll bet. You're right, we've got the clew! 'Barn loft plunder.' Ralph, Dunbar Station, quick!"

"Yes," said the young dispatcher quietly, "that's our terminus, as quick as we can make it."

Ralph's special pass furnished him by the road officer came in good.

It brought them a lift on an urgency locomotive and another on the tender of the Daylight Express. At three o'clock that afternoon after due inquiry the two friends approached a house in a lonely settlement at the edge of Dunbar Station.

As they neared the house a woman knitting on its steps arose hurriedly, ran into the house and shut every door and window about the place.

"Acts sort of scared, eh?" suggested Zeph, as they approached the front of the house.

"Or suspicious," remarked Ralph.

"Stop right there. Who are you, and what do you want?"

The boys paused summarily, a bit taken off their balance. Very suddenly the barrel of a long shotgun was thrust through the slats of one of the wooden shutters, and the voice which challenged them showed no timidity or nonsense.

"We want to see Mrs. Hannah Clifton," replied Ralph politely, revealing himself.

"What for?" demanded the uncompromising invisible challenger.

"Why--er--that is--" began the rattled Zeph stammeringly.

"Shut up," whispered Ralph unceremoniously. "In behalf of Mr. Rivers," added Ralph ahead.

"He sent you, did he?"

"We just came from him."

"On business, I suppose?"

"Yes, madam."

"All right, then he gave you a word."

"Password!" whispered Zeph desperately.

"Sun and Moon," ventured Ralph recklessly.

"Wrong!" cried the woman as quick as lightning. "I see your game. You're guessing. If you don't make yourselves scarce in two minutes, I'll fire."

She did not wait the limit. The fowling piece scattered skithering bird shot with a flare just as the intruders got out of range.

"She's too keen for us--get to the barn, Ralph," suggested Zeph breathlessly.

"Yes, run," ordered Ralph.

They reached it, ran to cover and peered out. The woman, gun in hand, dashed from the house in the direction of a nest of small huts in the vicinity.

"She is going to rouse up some of her friends, I have not the least doubt," observed Ralph. "Quick action, Zeph. That telegram said 'barn loft!'"

"Whoo-oop!"

Already the impetuous Zeph had acted on the impulse of the moment. He was up in the loft already. Mingled with his chucklings were the rustlings of hay, a dragging sound. Down on Ralph's head came a bulky object as he started up the cleated side of the barn.

"Bags--two of them! Money! Pay envelopes!" gasped the young road officer in a transport of wild excitement. "Rivers hid them here. The woman don't know. Hustle, get out. She may bring a mob after us. Oh, I'm a--I'm a great detective at last!"

"You are, and always were," cheered Ralph with a happy smile. He felt well satisfied. The very feeling of the stuffed bags, a mere glance at their contents, told the young railroader that they were lugging to safety a fortune probably amounting to over two hundred thousand dollars.

They lost no time in cutting across the fields towards the town, each bearing a share of the precious burden.

At the local bank Ralph amazed the proprietor by demanding that the bags be locked up in his strongest vaults as the property of the Great Northern railroad.

Then he hurried to the office of the company railroad operator at Dunbar Station.

There was a brief explanation, a quick call for headquarters, the urgency signal, 25, and Ralph could fancy loyal old John Glidden at headquarters throwing open the entire lines for final orders in the great pay car mystery case.

East, west, south the messages flew: to the general superintendent, to Bob Adair, to the marshal, to the paymaster at Stanley Junction.

The unobtrusive station operator stared in bewilderment at the quick, natty stranger, who seemed to have no trouble in keeping track of a dozen different messages at once. It took Ralph fully an hour, with details, repeats and clean up. He arose from the instrument with a satisfied face.

"I've done my work, Zeph," he said, "and I'm going back to headquarters. You are to wait here for instructions from Mr. Adair. They will come sharp and brisk, don't be afraid. We have started the ball rolling, the rest will be easy."