Ralph peered down. A gleam of red, like a wagon tongue, caught his eye. Then he made out a rounding metal rim like the tire of a wheel. He began to let himself down cautiously with the help of roots and vines. His feet finally rested on a solid box body.
An irrepressible cry of satisfaction arose from the lips of the lonely delver in the débris at the bottom of the ravine.
When Ralph clambered up again he was warm and perspiring but his eyes were bright with the influence of some stimulating discovery.
He stood still for five minutes, as if undecided just what to do, glanced at the fast-setting sun, and struck out briskly in the direction of the road leading to Dover.
It was midnight when he reached the town he had visited earlier in the same day. Ralph went straight to the police station of the place.
For about an hour he was closeted with one of the officers there whom he had met earlier on his visit in the gig. They had a spirited confidential talk.
Ralph was on railroad business now, pure and simple, for he was acting in accordance with Road Detective Matthewson's instructions and on the strength of his written authority.
"I ran catch a Midland Central train west to Osego in about an hour," he planned, as he left the police station and walked towards the depot. "There's a ten-mile cut across country on foot to Springfield, and then I am headed for Stanley Junction by daylight."
Ralph boarded the train at Springfield at about six o'clock in the morning. His pass from Matthewson won him a comfortable seat in the chair car, and he had a sound, refreshing nap by the time the 10.15 rolled into Stanley Junction.
Griscom had this run, but Ralph did not make his presence known to his sturdy engineer friend. He left the train at a crossing near home, and was soon seated at the kitchen table doing ample justice to a meal hurriedly prepared for him by his delighted mother.