“Well, you’re a bold one,” sneered Slump, getting very angry. “You won’t help us out, then?”
“With money—on your promise? No. I shall find Gasper Farrington finally without your aid, and, if you have nothing further to say, I shall return to the picnic grounds.”
“I don’t think you will,” said Bemis, roughly placing himself in Ralph’s path.
“Why not?” inquired the young fireman calmly, grasping his cudgel with a closer grip.
“Because—say, Ike, grab him, quick! If he won’t deal with us and we can get him a prisoner, Farrington will pay us. You know he always wanted to get rid of him.”
Ralph prepared to meet the enemy squarely. 187 Slump and Bemis rushed towards him. Before they could begin the fight, however, a man burst through the underbrush whom Ralph recognized as a Stanley Junction police officer detailed on picnic duty.
“Found you, my friends, have I?” he hailed the two fellows. “Grab one of them, Fairbanks, I’ve got the other. I was on the lookout for them. They stole a purse from the basket of an old lady in the picnic grounds a few hours ago. Slump? Bemis? Well, you are a fine pair, you are!”
The officer insisted on arresting them, the more so that upon recognizing them now he suddenly remembered that a reward had been offered for their apprehension by the railroad company. The crestfallen plotters were taken to the train and locked up in one end of the express car.
Ralph went to them after a spell and tried to learn something more from them, but they were now sullen and vengeful.
In due time the train was backed down to the main track, the engine detached made a run for water, and, returning, stood some little distance from the cars.