“I’ll give them to you--I’ll fix it up with headquarters. Fire away.”
Ralph was out of the relay station and down the tracks in a hurry. Roberts was bustling about and had fired up the old switch locomotive as if ordered for a mile-a-minute dash.
“What’s the programme?” he inquired simply.
“To reach the north branch just as quick as we can.”
“All right. You’ll run her?”
“Yes.”
“You know how.”
Ralph was delighted with his helper. Roberts made no delay, asked no questions. Ralph was all nerved up with the exploit in view.
Their destination was a good forty miles to the northwest. The dump tracks comprised practically an abandoned line, and, as Ralph knew, was free of either freight or passenger traffic at that hour. It was occasionally used as a cut-off in cases of emergency. The roadbed was somewhat neglected and uneven, but he had run over it twice within a few months, and as they started out Roberts announced that their special orders had shown clear tracks.
The route was a varied one, and there were some odd old-fashioned curves and a few hair-raising ten per cent. grades.