“Don’t be rash, Mr. Griscom,” advised Ralph. “The railroad detective force will soon be on the trail. The nephew of a railroad president doesn’t disappear in this fashion every day in the year.”
When they got back to Stanley Junction they were interviewed at once by Bob Adair. Both were worn out with double duty and got to bed as quickly as possible.
Ralph reported at the roundhouse late in the afternoon, but learned that there would be no through trains out until a temporary bridge was erected over the creek near Dover.
He returned to the house, and was pleased with the thought of having a social evening at home and a good night’s rest. 95
It was shortly after dark, and Ralph was reading a book in the cozy sitting room of the home cottage, when the door bell rang.
The young fireman answered the summons. A stranger stood at the threshold. He was a dignified, well-dressed gentleman, but seemed to be laboring under some severe mental strain, for he acted nervous and agitated.
“Mr. Fairbanks—Ralph Fairbanks?” he inquired in a tone of voice that quivered slightly.
“Yes,” replied the young fireman.
“I am very anxious to have a talk with you,” said the stranger hurriedly. “I have been down the line, and have just arrived at Stanley Junction. My name is Grant, Robert Grant, and I am the president of the Great Northern Railroad.”
“Come in, sir,” said Ralph cordially, deeply impressed with welcoming so important a visitor, but maintaining his usual manly pose. He showed the official into the house and introduced him to his mother.