It belonged to Mort Bemis. Ralph began to have a coherent suspicion as to the cause of his recent helplessness.
"I'll tear twenty-six dollars out of you, or I'll have your hide!" proclaimed strident feminine tones.
"I hain't got no money."
"You'll get it for me. What, strike me with that piece of wire! You wretch, I'll----"
There was a jangling crash, as of some heavy body thrown back against the lever cables in the lower story of the switch tower.
Then its door crashed open, and glancing through the windows Ralph saw Mort Bemis dash into view.
He sped across tracks as if for his life. He was hatless, his face was streaked with red welts. From one hand trailed a piece of insulated electric light wire.
Giving a frightened backward glance as he reached a line of freights, the ex-towerman leaped the space between two cars and disappeared from view.
From the lower story of the switch tower there now issued exclamations of rage and disgust.
Ralph started to look down the ladder trap. Just then the dial called for a switch, and duty temporarily curbed his interest and curiosity. As he set clear tracks again, a head obtruded through the trapdoor.