CHAPTER II--UP THE LADDER
Ralph Fairbanks was a full-fledged railroader, young as he was.
Those who have read the preceding volume of this series, will have nodifficulty in recognizing the able and intrepid hero of "Ralph of theRoundhouse" in the manly young fellow who had just reported for duty togrim old Jack Knight.
Ralph had lived at Stanley Junction since childhood. His father hadbeen a railroad man before him. In fact, John Fairbanks had beeninstrumental in bringing the Great Northern to Stanley Junction. He hadin part supervised its construction.
He had died before reaping the reward of his services. However, Mrs.Fairbanks and his friends knew that he owned some twenty thousanddollars' worth of railroad stock besides his home. This stock could notbe located after his death, and Ralph and his mother found themselvestotally unprovided for.
They knew that in his stock deals Mr. Fairbanks had a partner. This wasGasper Farrington, a miserly but wealthy magnate of the town.
To their astonishment, this man now came forward with a mortgage on thehomestead that Mrs. Fairbanks was positive had been paid off before herhusband's death.
Of this, however, she could furnish no written proof. Farringtonprofessed great sympathy for the family of his dead partner, butnevertheless he insisted on collecting the interest on the mortgage.
He seemed very anxious to get the Fairbanks family away from StanleyJunction, and even offered them a bribe to go.
This fact aroused Ralph's suspicions.
He got thinking things over. He suddenly realized what a sacrifice hisnoble mother was making to keep him at school.
One day he went home with a great resolve in his mind. He announced tohis mother that he had decided to put aside boyish sports for hard work.
Ralph was a favorite with local railroaders. The freight yards at Actoncaught fire, and Ralph was impressed into temporary service.
The lad's heroic acts won the attention and friendship of the mastermechanic of the railroad. Next day Ralph found himself an employee ofthe Great Northern, as wiper under the foreman of the local roundhouse.
They had offered him a clerical position in the general offices down theline at Springfield, but Ralph declined. He announced his intention ofbeginning at the very bottom of the railroad ladder and working his wayup.
How promptly and triumphantly he reached the first rung, "Ralph of theRoundhouse" has narrated.
It was a hard experience, but he soon won the reputation of turning outthe cleanest, brightest locomotives in the service.
Ralph made many friends and some enemies. Among the latter was adissolute boy named Ike Slump. This young rascal stole nearly awagon-load of valuable brass fittings from the railroad supply shops,and not a trace of the thief or booty could be discovered by the roaddetectives.
Ralph had in the meantime befriended and practically adopted a poorwaif, named Van Sherwin. The latter had been accidentally struck in thehead by a baseball. His reason seemed gone. Ralph's tender-heartedmother cared for him as if he was an only son.
Strange to say, it was through this lone waif whom Ralph had sobefriended that the young railroader was led to know a certain FarwellGibson. This man turned out to be, like Ralph's father, a victim of thewiles of old Gasper Farrington.
Ralph and he got comparing notes. Gibson lived in a lonely stretch ofwoods. He was day by day doing some grading work, which enabled him tokeep alive a legal charter for a cut-off railway line.
He furnished Ralph with the evidence that the mortgage on the Fairbankshome had been paid.
Incidentally, near the woodland seclusion of Farwell Gibson, Ralph ranacross a wrecked wagon in a ravine. In this he discovered the metalfittings stolen from the railroad company.
Ike Slump got away, but Ralph secured the plunder. When he returned toStanley Junction, through a lawyer he made Gasper Farrington acknowledgethe mortgage on their home as invalid, much to the chagrin of the oldmiser.
He told Farrington, too, that he believed he had his father's twentythousand dollars' worth of railroad bonds hidden away somewhere, andnotified him that he should yet try to unravel the mystery surroundingthem.
Ralph now reaped the reward of duty well done. Life grew brighter. Theyhad a home, and Mr. Blake, the master mechanic, showed his appreciationof the recovery of the stolen plunder.
Ralph was officially notified that he was promoted to duty at the depotswitch tower.
For two days he had been under the skilled tuition of old Jack Knight,learning the ropes. Now, at the noon hour of a bright, balmy autumnday, he entered upon this second grade of service in the employ of theGreat Northern.
It was a pleasure to the ardent young railroader to view the panorama ofrails and switches in plain view of the switch tower.
It was a fascinating novelty to study old Jack Knight at the levers.One-handed as he was for the occasion, he went through his duties likesome skilled master giving an expert exhibition.
The switch levers were numbered up to twenty. In their center was adial, a foot across. Over its surface ran an indicator, moved by anelectric button one mile south, at the main signal tower at the limitsof the town.
"Passenger No. 8," "Freight 10," "Express 3," "Special," "Chaser," andhalf a dozen other regular trains were marked on this dial.
Nearby was a telephone, also connecting with the limits tower. This wasin requisition every minute to announce when trains had passed a certainswitch, closed again behind them.
A large megaphone hung in readiness near an open window behind theoperator, who darted from lever to lever according as he received hisorders by 'phone or dial.
For two days, as Ralph had told Mort Bemis, he had been under theskilled tuition of old Jack, learning the switches.
He had gone down the tracks to the limits, foot by foot slowly, twentytimes or more that morning, until he had a perfect map in his head ofevery rail and switch on the roadbeds.
He had familiarized himself with every lever number, and that of everytrain on the road. He realized that trained eye, ear, and muscle mustbe ever on the alert, or great loss of life and property might result atany moment.
There was a lull in active duty for the veteran towerman as the noonwhistles blew. Knight set the lever for a lazy switch engine taking asiding, sent the noon accommodation on her way, closed the switchesafter her, and gave attention to Ralph.
"Well, Fairbanks," he said, slipping his coat over one arm and changinghis cap, "think you can manage?"
"I can obey orders," answered Ralph.
"That's all you have to do. The limits gives you your cue. Neverforget that they are the responsible party. If they say six, make itsix, if you see that it's going to bust a train of Pullmans, depot, andall. Obey orders--that's the beginning and end. Number two is: Useyour own judgment with chasers and freights when the tracks are full."
Just then the telephone bell rang. Ralph grasped the receiver.
"No. 4, express, backing in," and Ralph repeating it casually for oldJack's benefit, stepped on the long, narrow plank lining the leverplatform.
"Three for the yards switch, 7 for the in main, and 4 for the expressshed siding," he pronounced.
It took some muscle to pull over the big heavy levers in turn, whichwere not operated on the new-style compressed air system.
Knight watched him closely, nodding his head in approval as Ralph closedthe switches on limits' 'phoning as the express passed certain points.As a locomotive backing three express cars passed the tower and took thesheds tracks, old Jack observed:
"You'll do. I'll drop in later. Your shift runs till 9 P.M. Then DocBortree will relieve you."
"All right, Mr. Knight. And thanks for all your trouble in teachingme," said Ralph.
The old towerman disappeared down the trap ladder. Ralph did not sitdown. He was alone now, and it would take time and experience todissipate the natural tension of anxiety he felt.
"It's a big responsibility for a boy," he s
poke musingly. "They knowtheir business, though," he went on, "and have confidence in me, itseems. Well, I'll make good, if strict obedience to orders is thekeynote."
The ensuing hour was a great strain on Ralph's nerves. It was acritical situation, for at one o'clock it seemed as if every switchengine in the service started up simultaneously.
Three freights and one out and one in passenger complicated thesituation. Ralph's eye never left the dial. His ear got trained tocatching the slightest click on the telephone.
He felt as flabby as a doormat and was wet with perspiration, as hefinally cleared the yards.
"Never a miss!" he panted, with a good deal of satisfaction. "Itcouldn't come much swifter than that at any hour of the day or night.It's genuine hard work, though, and expert work, too. Well, I've made afair beginning."
Ralph had it quite easy for an hour now. He rested in the big canearmchair on a little elevated platform directly in front of the levers.From there he had a clear view of every foot of the yards.
Some roundhouse hands, passing by, waved him a genial hail. The depotmaster strolled by about three o'clock, and called up to know howKnight's hand was getting on. Just after that, Ralph fancied herecognized Mort Bemis in a group of loaferish-looking fellows on thefreight tracks. A call to the levers, however, distracted hisattention, and when he looked again the coterie had disappeared.
"I'll have a stirring report to make to mother to-night," reflectedRalph, with pleasurable anticipation.
A short freight had just taken the far siding. Its engineer held up twofingers to Ralph. This indicated that he wanted main two. After thathis crew set the unattached switches beyond themselves.
The freight was slowing up, when Ralph saw a female form come over thebumpers of two of the moving cars. She leaped to the ground as nimblyas an expert switchman.
The fireman of the freight yelled at her and shook his fist. She tossedher head in the air and proceeded across the planked passenger roadbeds,dodging a hand-car, climbing over a stationary freight, and continuingrecklessly across the railroad property where outsiders were notallowed.
She was a somewhat portly, red-faced woman of about forty. She wore ahideous poke bonnet, and carried a bulging umbrella with a heavy hookedhandle.
In crossing between the cars she simply reached up with this, encircledthe brake-rod with the umbrella handle, and pulled herself to thebumpers.
A flagman came rushing up to her. He pointed to the painted sign on asignal post near by, warning trespassers.
Ralph watched the determined female flare up. The flagman tried to stopher. She knocked off his cap with a sweeping blow of the umbrella, andproceeded calmly on her way with the stride of some amazon.
Ralph was wondering at her temerity and mission. She was headedstraight for the switch tower.
Just then the dial clicked. "Chaser" it indicated, and down the maintrack came a locomotive and tender at full speed.
The 'phone gave the direction: Track 11. This was a set of railsrounding beyond the blank wall of the in freight on a sharp curve.
It took one lever to set the switch from the main track, another to openthe rails inside track eleven.
On the main, forty feet farther on, stood the made-up afternoonaccommodation train. On No. 12 were two dead Pullmans, ready for thenight express.
The levers of in main and track eleven were less than three feet apart.Ralph grasped one with each hand, to slide the main with his right andcomplete the switch circuit with his left.
It was an easy task, knowing just what was wanted, and a full thirtyseconds to act in.
The minute that Ralph's hands struck the levers, a thrill and then achill--strong, overpowering, and deadly--paralyzed every nerve in hisbody.
Every vestige of sensation left his frame--his hands, perfectlynerveless, seemed glued to the levers.
He could not detach them, strive as he might--he could not exert asingle ounce of pulling power.
With a gasp Ralph saw the chaser engine dash down the rails, a hundred,eighty, seventy, fifty feet from the main switch, tender in front, soengineer and fireman, relying on the tower service, never noticed thatthey were headed for a tremendous crash into the made-up accommodation.
With a sickening sense of horror Ralph strove to pull the levers.Impossible!
Something was wrong! He could not move a muscle. Like one petrified heglared down at the flying locomotive, headed straight for disaster anddestruction.
Ralph in the Switch Tower; Or, Clearing the Track Page 2
