“Archie,” said Ralph honestly, “I believe you’re going to hit some real invention some time.”
“I helped out some with my patent rocket signals this time,” declared Archie.
“You did, my lad,” observed Fogg with enthusiasm, “and the passengers know all about it, and they’ve mentioned you in a letter they’re getting up to the company saying how they appreciate the intelligence—that’s Fairbanks—the courage, ahem! that’s me, and the good-heartedness, that’s all of us, of the two train crews.”
By the middle of the afternoon a snow plow opened up the line from Rockton to the stalled train. It was not until two mornings later, 266 however, that the main line was open and Ralph and Fogg got back to Stanley Junction.
Archie came on the same train. Ralph asked him up to the house, but the young inventor said he wanted the quiet of his hotel room to work on his signal rocket idea, which he declared would amount to something yet.
The young engineer had scarcely got in the house after the warm, cheerful greeting of his anxious mother, when Zeph Dallas put in an appearance.
Zeph was looking exceedingly prosperous. He wore a new, nicely-fitting suit of clothes, a modest watch and chain, and was quite dignified and subdued, for him.
“When you’ve had your breakfast, Ralph,” he said, “I’ve got something to tell you.”
“Yes,” nodded Ralph, “I’m expecting to hear a pretty long story from you, Zeph.”
The young engineer hurried his breakfast and soon joined Zeph in the sitting-room.