He did not know where to find Ike Slump, but he was thoroughly acquainted with the town, which had its rough quarters, like all other railroad centers.
Extending from the depot along the tracks for half a mile were small hotels, workingmen's boarding houses, second-hand stores, restaurants saloons, and all kinds of little business places.
They comprised a nest where most of the drinking and all of the crime of the place occurred. It was not a desirable quarter, but Ralph realized that within its precincts he was likely to locate Ike Slump, if at all in Stanley Junction.
Ralph put in an hour strolling in the vicinity. He kept a keen eye out for those of Ike's chosen chums whom he knew. He did not believe that Ike was likely to show himself much in the day-time. His father had been unable to find him, and Ike probably had some safe hide-out, and pickets on the lookout, besides.
About eleven o'clock, coming down the tracks near the scene of the battle royal, Ralph discovered half a dozen boys in the rear yard of a blacksmith shop.
Various vehicles, sheds and general yard litter enabled Ralph to approach them unobserved. He fancied that at least two of the crowd had been mixed up in the fracas which Van's valiant onslaught had terminated, for one had a swollen nose and another a black eye.
Ralph suddenly appeared before the crowd, engrossed in their game. They rose up, startled. Then he was apparently recognized, for a quick murmur went the rounds, and they quickly hunched together with lowering brows and suspicious looks.
"I want to have a word with you fellows," said Ralph bluntly.
They were six to one, and here was a golden opportunity to avenge the ignominious defeat they had sustained. Ralph's off-hand bearing, however, his clear eye and manly tones, impressed them, and perhaps, too, they had a wholesome fear that his giant-fisted champion, Van, might be lurking in the vicinity.
No one spoke, and Ralph resumed.