Ralph could not fathom the possible motive of the stranger, who apparently was somehow interested in his doings. When they started out on their regular run, he told Fogg what Torchy had imparted to him. The fireman reflected speculatively over the disclosure.
"I can't understand what the fellow is up to," he admitted, "unless one of the gangs is up to a new trick and has hired a stranger to work it on us."
There was a long wait at Riverton after arrival that day. Then they were sided, and Fogg strolled off to a restaurant. Ralph sat down on a pile of ties at the side of the track and enjoyed the lunch that he had brought with him from home. He had just finished it and was about to go to the cab and get a book on railroading to read, when a tall, farmer-appearing fellow came upon the scene.
"Say," he drawled, "is this 999—yes, I see it is."
"All right," nodded Ralph; "what about it?"
"I want to see the engineer."
"I am the engineer."
"Name Fairbanks?"
"Yes."
"Well, I'm sent to you."
"By whom?"
