“Lad,” he said grimly, “these tricks are done to scare you and delay the train.”
“I am not scared one particle,” retorted Ralph, “only this strikes me as a dangerous piece of mischief—putting explosives in among the coal.”
“Jim Evans did it,” positively asserted Griscom. “That’s what he sneaked into the cab for, and he has confederates along the line.”
Ralph said nothing but he resolved to call Evans to account when he returned to Stanley Junction.
They were over an hour late on the run. Returning to Stanley Junction, they were delayed by a wreck and the time record was bad at both ends of the line.
“I don’t like it,” said Griscom.
“We’ll mend it, Mr. Griscom,” declared the young fireman, and he did not go home when they 31 reached Stanley Junction, but proceeded at once to the home of Jim Evans.
Ralph knocked at the open door, but no one answered the summons and he stepped to the door of the sitting room.
“Any one here?” he called out through the house.
“Eh? oh—no,” answered a muffled voice, and a man in the adjoining room got up quickly and fairly ran out through the rear door.