Ralph was fully watchful and employed for the next hour. Then he became dreadfully anxious. A handcar bolted right under the windows of the switch tower. The master mechanic and Jack Knight got off, and came up the ladder a minute later.
Ralph stood holding to the armchair, a picture of suspense. The master mechanic looked grave and bothered. On the contrary, bluff and hearty as ever, Knight came forward. He grasped Ralph by both shoulders, swinging him backwards and forwards in a playful, encouraging way.
"Shake, old fellow!" he sang out, slipping one hand down one arm and gripping Ralph's fingers heartily.
"Why?" asked Ralph with a half-smile. "Good-bye? I suppose that is the programme for me," he added, with an anxious look at the master mechanic.
"What's that?" demanded old Jack keenly. "Oh, on account of the through freight? Humph! If the Great Northern don't appreciate the wise, wide-awake common sense that saw the difference between three old box cars and eleven precious human lives, I'll take my walking papers instanter. Is that right, Mr. Blake?" challenged Knight.
"Yes," nodded the master mechanic, "your sentiment is right, Mr. Knight. I have nothing but praise for the good judgment young Fairbanks has shown."
"But I disobeyed orders," suggested Ralph in an uncertain tone.
"Orders?" sniffed Knight--"yes, luckily! A crazy man's order."
"Why, what do you mean?" inquired Ralph in perplexity.
"What I say. For three hours the limits tower has been in charge of a stark, raving lunatic--the Great Northern railroad system the plaything of a madman. Never has this company been so near wreck and ruin. And you, Fairbanks," added the veteran towerman, with a tender, fatherly touch on the arm of his young protégé--"you saved your end of the line!"