Ralph, the Train Dispatcher; Or, The Mystery of the Pay Car

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Ralph, the Train Dispatcher; Or, The Mystery of the Pay Car Page 10

by Mrs. Molesworth


  CHAPTER X

  THE TRAIN DISPATCHER

  A great flood of dark suspicion crossed Ralph's mind at the discovery ofthe road chart. A dozen quick questions arose to his lips. Before hecould speak, however, there was a hail from the outside.

  "Hey, there, young fellow!"

  Glen ran out to the road where a farm hand on horseback had halted.Ralph followed him.

  "About your old man," spoke the visitor.

  "My grandfather, yes," said Glen breathlessly.

  "You told us to sort of keep an eye on him. He came down to our placeabout an hour ago to get some butter. Scruggins, who lives just beyondhere was going to Centerville. Your old man said he wanted to go there,too, to see the new swinging signal bridge over the railroad."

  "Oh, but you stopped him."

  "I was away when it happened, and he would not listen to ma. Scrugginssaid he would bring him back all right."

  "Oh, I must stop him! I must overtake him!" cried Glen in such poignantdistress that Ralph was surprised. "Grandfather was away nearly two daysbefore, and pretty near got lost, and I was worried to death. I must goafter him, indeed I must! Excuse me, won't you," he pleaded of Ralph.

  "I will see you again soon," answered Ralph.

  "Do--sure," said Glen. "I have lots to tell you."

  The farm hand rode on his way and Glen ran down the road on foot atgreat speed. Ralph went back slowly to the open house. Once more heinspected the telegraph room. Then with a good deal of thoughtfulness hestarted homeward.

  "There's something queer about all this business," ruminated the youngrailroader. "That boy's grandfather was certainly in with the two menwho escaped from me in the tunnel. He is an expert telegrapher. So isGlen. Ike Slump had something up his sleeve about Glen. That chart ofthe road has the regular telegraph signal on it. What does this allmean?"

  Ralph could not believe that Glen was a schemer or anything of thatsort. For all that, there was a decided mystery about him. He seemed tobe afraid of Slump, appeared to shun the town and its people. Why was hewandering all about the country with a helpless old man? Why had heflushed up and acted embarrassed when Ralph had asked him severalpointed questions?

  "Glen must certainly be questioned about the two men who had hisgrandfather in tow," decided Ralph, "for those fellows must be locatedand watched. I wish Bob Adair was here. He would soon let light in onthe whole affair. I'd rather he would do it, for I feel very friendlytowards Glen and I don't like hurting his feelings by seeming to pryinto his private business."

  Ralph rested a few minutes on the porch when he reached home and thenstarted down town. He was in a certain state of suspense, for the ordersof the general superintendent were vague and unsatisfactory. Somethingwas working, Ralph felt, in which he was to take an active part. Thepaymaster had indicated that affairs were being stirred up. Idleness andsuspense worried the young railroader, however, and he anxiously awaitedthe coming interview with his superior officer.

  Ralph went down to the roundhouse and met many of his friends. OldForgan, the fireman, described the disgust and dejection of Fogg athaving a new running mate. Everybody had heard that Ralph had a layoffon account of a fall disabling him, and his arm in the sling won him agood deal of friendly sympathy. He made a tour of the general offices tolearn that Mr. Little was laid up at home with a lame foot, and that thegeneral superintendent was out of town.

  Ralph had the free run of the general offices, as the saying went. Hewas ambitious, energetic and popular, and the busiest man in the servicehad a pleasant nod and a kindly word for him as he went around thedifferent departments. When he arrived at the train dispatcher's office,the young railroader went in and sat down.

  Ralph was in one of the most inviting places a man can get into,especially if he is interested in the workings of a big railway system.

  The thought came to him, as he sat watching the men who held in theirkeeping the lives of thousands of passengers, that not all the creditfor a good swift run was due to the engineer and train crew. He smiledas he recalled how the newspapers told every day of the President orsome big functionary out on a trip, and how at the end of the run hestopped beside the panting engine, and reaching up to shake the hand ofthe faithful, grimy engineer, would say:

  "Thank you so much for giving us a good run. I don't know when I haveridden so fast before," or words to that effect.

  The reader of such items never thinks the engineer and crew are meremechanical agents, small cogs in a huge machine. They do their partwell, but the little office of the train dispatcher is a red-hot placewhere they have a red-hot time, where one tap of the sounder may coverthe fate of numberless extras, specials and delayed trains.

  The young engineer took particular notice of the dispatcher's office onthe present occasion. This was because so much of pending trouble seemedto involve the wire system of the Great Northern. The wire tappingepisode, the prototype routing chart at the chicken farm, had arousedsuspicion in his mind. Then, too, Ralph had often had a fondness and anadmiration for this branch of the service. At one time, in fact, he hadstudied telegraphy with the purpose in view of following it up, and oldJohn Glidden, a fast friend of his, had invited him to the dispatcher'soffice and had taught him a great many useful things in his line.

  Glidden was the first trick dispatcher and was not on duty just now.Ralph nodded to two subordinates at their tables, and snuggled back intohis comfortable seat with the time and interest to look over things.

  The interior of the dispatcher's office was not very sumptuous. Therewas a big counter at one side of the room. This contained the trainregister, car record books, message blanks and forms for variousreports. Against the wall on one of the other sides was a big blackboardknown as the call board. Ralph read here the record of the probablearrival and departure of trains and the names of their crews. Also thetime certain crews were to be called.

  About the middle of the room in the recess of a bay window was thedispatcher's table. Ralph only casually knew the man in charge. His namewas Thorpe, a newcomer, and an expert in his line, but gruff and uncivilin the extreme, and he had few friends. In front of him was the trainsheet containing information exact and absolute in its nature of eachtrain on the division. On the sheet was also a space set apart for theexpected arrival of trains from the other end and one for delays.Glidden had once gone over one of these sheets with Ralph with itsloads, empties and miscellaneous details, and Ralph knew that the grim,silent man at the table must know the precise location of every train ata given moment, how her engine was working, how she had done along theroad, and all about her engineer and conductor.

  Ralph spent nearly a half an hour in the dispatcher's room. Then he wentdown to the depot. An extra was just leaving for the west. He paused tohave a cheery word with the engineer and fireman, whom he knew quitewell. They were getting ready for the orders to pull out, when the threeof them stared hard at a flying form coming down the track.

  "Hello," observed the engineer, "it's Bates."

  "Yes, the second trick man in the dispatcher's office," nodded thefireman. "Wonder what's up with him?"

  "Something is," declared Ralph, "according to his looks and actions."

  Bates came puffing up white and breathless. Evidently he had just gotout of bed, half dressed himself, put on a pair of slippers, no coat, nohat, and he seemed to ignore the cold and snow amid some frantic urgencyof reaching the departing train.

  "Say!" he panted, approaching the fireman who was giving No. 341 thelast touch of oil before they pulled out, "thank heaven you haven'tgone!"

  "Hey?" stared the engineer.

  "Don't pull out for a minute."

  "Why not?"

  "I think there's a mistake in your orders."

  "What's the matter with you?" snapped back the fireman with affectedgruffness. "I hain't got no orders. Come here, till I oil the wheels inyour head."

  "You must come up to the dispatcher's office," insisted Bates urgently,and the engineer followed him wonderin
gly. Ralph, tracing somethingunusual in the episode of the moment, kept them company.

  The chief dispatcher was standing by the counter. He glanced sharply atBates with the words:

  "What's up, kid? Seen a ghost? You look almost pale enough yourself tobe one."

  "No," quavered Bates in a shaky tone. "I haven't seen any ghosts, but Iam afraid I forgot to notify that track gang just west of here aboutthis extra."

  The chief went to the order book and glanced at the train sheet.

  "Oh, bosh!" he said. "Of course you notified them. Here it is as big aslife. Look out for extra west engine 341 leaving Stanley Junction at1:21 P. M. What do you want to get a case of rattles and scare us allthat way for. Say, I'd ought to run down your spinal column with a rake.Don't you know there are other dispatchers in this office besidesyourself--men who know more in a minute about the business than you doin a month? Don't you suppose that order book would be verified and thetrain sheet consulted before sending out the extra. Say, don't you evershow up with such a case of rattles again."

  Bates expressed an enormous sigh of relief. As he came down to theplatform, however, Ralph noticed that he was shaking from head to foot.

  "Did you ever work up there?" inquired Bates in a solemn tone.

  "No," answered Ralph.

  "Then don't. Just wake up once after you've left the key, and getthinking you've forgotten something, and--nightmare? Fairbanks, it'sworse than the horrors!"

 

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