“Good. We’ll have him there if possible to-morrow evening,” decided the chief, writing.
Needless to say Jack was delighted when early the following morning at Hammerton he received the telegraphed appointment to the station at Midway. At once resigning at the Hammerton commercial office, he hurried home, by noon was on the train, and arrived at Midway Junction at 7 o’clock.
Entering the telegraph room, he called Exeter. “Well, here I am, Al,” he ticked, when Alex himself responded. “And I’m ever so much obliged to you, old boy, for getting me the position.”
“Don’t mention it. And anyway,” responded Alex, “you had better save your thanks until you learn just what you are up against there. I didn’t have time to write—but the former man left last night, simply on the run.” And continuing, Alex explained.
“So you see, you were called in as a sort of expert.”
“Hi,” laughed Jack. “Well, I’ll do the best I can. But probably the ‘ghost’ won’t show up again now for a month or so?”
“On the contrary, it is more likely to return soon,” clicked Alex. “That has been the way every time so far—three or four appearances in succession. So you had better prepare for business at once.”
Alex’s prediction was realized two nights later. A few minutes after the last freight had gone north, and Jack had been left entirely alone in the big station, he heard light footfalls outside on the platform. Going to the window, he peered out into the darkness, and seeing nothing, turned to the door. As he opened it the footsteps ceased.
Surprised, Jack returned and secured a lantern, and passed out and down the long platform. From end to end it was deserted and silent.
He returned to the office. Scarcely had he closed the door when again came the sound of footsteps.