Ralph in some surprise regarded his new friend. He was a queer-looking old man, carrying a formidable cudgel, and this he now brandished recklessly in the faces of his adversaries, beating them back step by step.
“Now, you mind your own business,” he warned the men. “Pitching onto a boy—three big loafers that you are!”
The men were cowards and sneaked sullenly away. Ralph’s rescuer went back to the pile of 115 ties and took up a little open memorandum book lying there.
Ralph noticed that its pages bore a list of numbers, as of cars.
“I am very grateful to you,” said the young fireman.
“That’s all right,” responded the stranger, and ran his eye over the cars as they passed by as if looking at their numbers. Ralph concluded that he had some business on the spot.
“Are you in the service of the railroad?” he asked.
“Yes,” nodded the man—“of many railroads. I am a professional car finder.”