Meanwhile Ralph had continued as engineman of the Midnight Flyer and the eastbound express from Hammerfest. That his mother was far from reconciled to this change in his work, he well knew. But she was as loyal in her way to the best interests of the Great Northern as the young fellow himself.
“If the general manager asked you to do it, Ralph, of course you could not refuse,” said Mrs. Fairbanks. “But I shall never be satisfied until you are back in the train dispatcher’s office. I hope for your advancement to more important positions than that of locomotive engineer.”
“Plenty of time for that,” said her son cheerfully. “And I know the G. M. will not forget me. It is only for a short time, we shall hope. This strike will not last forever.”
But he did not tell her of the many delays and actually perilous chances of his situation. He had been accosted on the street and threatened by some of the strikers. The men who had broken away from their unions as well as from the employing railroad were desperately determined to stop every wheel on the division.
It was Andy McCarrey’s boast that he would have the Great Northern on its knees in a month. It seemed that he had a large strike fund at his command. And Ralph suspected that the fellow likewise had under his control a band of rascals who would go to any length to cripple the railroad.
Gangs of ill-favored fellows were hanging about the yards. He heard of such men, too, all along the division. Tool sheds were broken into; the gangs’ handcars were crippled; fires were set on railroad property; numberless small crimes were committed which could not be traced to the strikers themselves, but were undoubtedly committed at Andy McCarrey’s behest.
“If we could just get one thing hitched to that slick rascal, we would put him where the dogs wouldn’t get a chance to bite him for some time,” Bob Adair said once to Ralph. “But McCarrey is as sharp as a needle. By the way, how much of that old tenement house did you see the night you and Zeph found him and Grif Falk over there?”
“Very little of it. It appeared to be practically empty. And I am sure there were no families living in it,” Ralph replied.
“You are right in that,” said the detective. “It is an old condemned tenement. But somehow McCarrey has got a lease of it. Nobody seems to know what goes on in there. And there is no good reason, as far as the police can find, for searching the premises.
“If I could just make sure the supply of liquor some of the men are getting is stored there, it would give us an opening. But if we do anything that can be proved illegal, McCarrey will have a case against us. He has some of the sharpest lawyers in the city in his pay.”