CHAPTER IV--A MYSTERY
Ralph looked at his switch-tower visitor in great surprise.
"Why, Mrs. Davis," he asked, "what is the matter?"
"N--nothing," she stammered, trying to control herself, but her featureswere working strangely. "So your name is Fairbanks?"
"Yes, Mrs. Davis."
"Not John Fairbanks--how simple I am, though, of course not. He was anold man. Are you his son, then?"
"Yes," answered Ralph, his curiosity excited. "My name is Ralph. I amJohn Fairbanks' son. He is dead, you know. Were you acquainted withhim?"
"Not acquainted exactly," replied the woman, in a certain repressed way."I have heard of him, you see."
"Oh, you mean since you came to Stanley Junction?"
"No, no, a long way from here, and a long time ago. Where I used tolive. I heard he was dead, and I heard you and your mother was dead,too. I did not dream that any of the Fairbanks were here now."
"Why, you amaze me!" cried Ralph. "Who could have told you that?"
"A certain man. He told a falsehood, didn't he? I might have known it.I see now--yes, I begin to see how things are."
She said this in a musing tone, as if half-forgetting that she had anauditor. Ralph was more than interested. He was startled. He knewenough of human nature to guess that Mrs. Davis was concealing somethingfrom him.
She arose quite flustered, and began to arrange her bonnet. She evadedRalph's eye, and appeared anxious to get away. Ralph determined topress some further inquiries. Before he could begin, she made theremark:
"You are a good boy, Ralph Fairbanks, and I shan't forget you. I willtake the loan you offer me, but it will be promptly paid back, verysoon. Boy," she continued, with a good deal of animation, as ifsuddenly stirred by some impulsive thought, "you will get a blessing forbeing good to a poor lone widow, see if you don't."
"I seem to be getting blessings all the time," said Ralph lightly, butreverently. "I guess life is full of them, if you do right and putyourself in the way of them. Is there some special blessing you arethinking of, Mrs. Davis?" he inquired, saying the words because thewoman had used a certain significant, mysterious tone in her laststatement. This made him believe she could be clearer and say a dealmore, if she chose to do so.
"Yes, there is," replied Mrs. Davis, almost excitedly. "You mustn'tquestion me, though, boy--not just now, anyway. You have given me a lotto think of. I may tell you something very important later on--I maytell your mother to-day. Good-by."
As she approached the trap in the floor, Ralph got a call for a switch.He was reluctant to let his visitor depart. Her vague revelationsdisturbed him. When he had attended to the levers, he turned again toMrs. Davis. In doing so he chanced to glance down at the near tracks,and fixedly regarded two approaching figures.
"Hello," he spoke irrepressibly, aloud. "Coming here--the mastermechanic and Gasper Farrington."
"What's that--who?" cried Mrs. Davis, almost in a shout.
Ralph looked at her in new amazement. As she had caught the last namehe had spoken, she stood erect in a strained, tense way, seeming to befrightened.
The two men Ralph had indicated now crossed the tracks and entered theswitch tower below. Their voices could be heard distinctly.
"We have a switch plan upstairs in the tower, Mr. Farrington," soundedthe clear, incisive tones of Mr. Blake, the master mechanic of the GreatNorthern.
"All right," answered his companion, and the accents of his voice seemedto be familiar to Mrs. Davis. She looked almost terrified. She glancedwildly around the tower room.
"Hide me!" she gasped appealingly to Ralph.
"Why, what for?" he inquired.
"It's Gasper Farrington, isn't it, just as you said? And he is comingup here!"
"It seems that he is, Mrs. Davis," responded Ralph.
"I don't want to meet him. I don't want him to see me--not yet," wenton the woman rapidly.
"Are you afraid of Gasper Farrington, Mrs. Davis?" asked Ralphpointedly.
But she did not answer him. She glided to the coat closet at the end ofthe room, as if seeking a hiding-place. As she pulled its door open,she noticed that it was too shallow to admit a human form.
The dial again called Ralph. By the time he had attended to the levers,he noticed that Mrs. Davis had produced a thick heavy veil and wasconcealing her face under it. She stood fidgeting nervously at a windowat the far end of the room, her back turned to the trapdoor, as if toescape direct attention.
The master mechanic came into view. Then he helped his companion intothe room.
Ralph caught his breath quickly and his lips compressed a trifle, as herecognized Gasper Farrington.
His advent was a certain new cause of some inquietude to the youngleverman. An old-time enemy, and a bitter and crafty one, Ralph knew hecould never expect any good from the miserly old magnate of StanleyJunction.
Farrington's wealth and position gave him a certain influence and powerthat had been repeatedly used to crush those he did not like. Hedisliked the Fairbanks family for more reasons than one, and he hadtried to crush Ralph more than once. In these efforts, however, he hadfailed. Ralph had come off the victor because he was in the right,which always prevails, sooner or later.
In their last encounter, Ralph had forced the scheming Farrington torelease the fraudulent mortgage he held on the Fairbanks cottage. Hehad bargained to keep the humiliating details of Farrington's swindlingoperations secret as long as the defeated magnate let them alone. Hedid not think that Farrington would now risk public exposure byattempting any further tricky measures of gain or revenge. Still, Ralphdisliked coming in contact with the man, who would willingly do him aninjury and gloat over his downfall.
He was glad that Farrington did not notice him. The attention of themagnate was at once directed to a blue-print plan nailed between twowindows.
"There is the switch plan of the yards, Mr. Farrington," said the mastermechanic, indicating the sheet of paper in question.
Mr. Blake nodded to Ralph. Then he looked inquiringly at Mrs. Davis.
"A lady who was looking for Mort Bemis," explained Ralph. "He owes hersome money, it seems."
"He owes about everybody he can work," said the master mechanicbrusquely, and crossed the room after Farrington.
Mrs. Davis quickly went to the trap. She kept her eye on GasperFarrington until safely down on the ladder, placed her finger on herlips in significant adieu to Ralph, and then disappeared.
The latter stood at the levers, his back turned purposely on thenewcomers into the switch tower.
There was no need of his having an encounter with Farrington, if itcould be avoided. Ralph attended to his duties strictly. However, hecould not help overhearing what the two men at the side of the room weresaying.
Ralph soon divined the nature of Farrington's visit to the switch tower.The magnate owned a factory building about half a mile from therailroad. It had stood vacant and abandoned for some time, as Ralphknew. Now, it seemed, a manufacturer had agreed to lease it for a termof years, provided he could have direct railroad transportationfacilities put in.
This point the two men at the switch plan were now discussing.Farrington was following the finger of the master mechanic, as it movedalong over the traceries of white and red ink that crisscrossed the blueprint.
"Here is where you start your spur," Mr. Blake was explaining. "We canput you in a single track, you to bear half the expense."
"You mean one-third," interrupted the bargaining old schemer.
"I mean just what I said," observed the master mechanic grimly. "It isa long reach for a siding, you have no right of way, and we aresupplying it, although we will have to run a pretty steep grade down theravine, for that is the only land we own in your direction. We haveright of way to within three hundred feet of your factory. As to thestrip that intervenes----"
"Oh, there's nothing there but an old shanty on leasehold," answeredFarrington.
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"Can you get permission to cross it?" asked Blake.
"He! he!" chuckled Farrington; "can I get it? I'll take it!"
"Well, that is your own matter," spoke Blake. "All we want is a bondguarantee for five years, that you will run enough freight over the spurto equal a ten per cent. annual investment."
"Isn't my word good enough for that?" demanded Farrington arrogantly.
"The Great Northern takes no man's word where a contract is concerned,"was the definite answer.
"All right, close the matter up as soon as you like," said Farrington."Here's where you control the switches, eh?" he continued, leaving theplat and taking a curious glance about the tower.
"Yes."
"I should say it took a clear head and lots of experience to avoidmistakes."
"It does, and lots of muscle, too--eh, Fairbanks?" spoke the mastermechanic.
Ralph nodded. He aimed to escape recognition at the hands ofFarrington, who, in another minute, would have left the place. He knew,however, that he was discovered, as the magnate uttered a short, sharpgrunt.