"About the stolen plunder," began Ralph.
"Of course. That's the one considerable weight on my mind, just at present," acknowledged the foreman, with an anxious sigh. "We show a mortgage on our inventory, and a big railroad system don't take kindly to that sort of thing, you know."
"Very well, Mr. Forgan," said Ralph brightly, "you can change your inventory."
"What! you don't mean"
"I have found the wagon load of brass fittings," answered Ralph. "They are in safe charge at the present time, subject to your order. Here is my report to the special agent, Mr. Matthewson, and I guess, Mr. Forgan, I'm out of a job again, for I don't see anything further in sight."
"Fairbanks, you're a trump!" shouted the delighted foreman, slapping the young railroader vigorously on the shoulder. "You've saved me some uneasiness, I can tell you! That your report?" with a glance at a neatly-directed envelope Ralph had produced. "Come with me. We want to catch Matthewson before he gets away. He's going down to Springfield this afternoon—on your business, too."
"On my business?" repeated Ralph. "That sounds like a good omen."
