He called down to the supervisor’s office. If Bob Adair was in Rockton, Ralph believed the supervisor would know how to reach him. Ralph knew that Mr. Hopkins was in the building. But he was surprised to hear his voice almost immediately answer the telephone call. The young fellow would have been even more surprised could he have seen who was with the supervisor at this hour. A man in a long dark coat and slouch hat had come into the supervisor’s office unannounced not many minutes before. Mr. Hopkins had evidently been expecting him. “Well, what do you find?” asked Hopkins, pushing his cigar box toward the visitor and lighting a cigar himself. Somehow the supervisor did not consider the use of tobacco an inefficient thing. “Nothing to put our finger on as yet, Mr. Hopkins,” was the reply. “Of course we might arrest McCarrey and his right-hand man, Falk. But we should have to let them go again for lack of holding evidence. There was a time—during the war—when we could have stopped them. But not now. Now a man can fire off his mouth about as much as he likes without getting into trouble. These fellows aim their talk at the railroad, not at the Government.” “You should be able to get them on some count,” declared Hopkins, smoking energetically. “McCarrey is stirring up the strikers to make trouble. I have had a written threat that the express passenger trains will be stopped. You know what that would mean.” “All bull,” said the other shortly. “Perhaps. And perhaps not. I was hooted at by a gang as I came downtown to-night. They will soon begin to throw missiles and break windows.” “Then we will have them, individually,” said the visitor, with some satisfaction. “Ha!” grumbled Mr. Hopkins. “Somebody lights a fire and you retrieve the burned match. But you don’t stop the fire. The fellows you arrest for throwing stones—or cabbages—will not be the dangerous ones. McCarrey and Falk and those others go scot-free.” “They are too sharp to really break the law—unless it is with their mouths,” the other admitted. “You should be able to round up the whole gang of trouble-instigators and put them in jail.” “You expect the impossible.” “I do not know that. You have only just now come to Rockton——” “I have had my men here. One of my helpers spotted that hide-out I tell you about—with the help of young Ralph Fairbanks.” “Ha! _That_ fellow?” “The smartest boy working for the Great Northern,” declared the visitor promptly. “That old ranch McCarrey and his men hang out in is a storehouse for liquors, I believe—and perhaps worse. I am having the place watched. But one of McCarrey’s closest friends has disappeared. Would certainly like to know what has become of Whitey Malone.” It was just at this moment that the supervisor’s telephone rang. At this hour there were no clerks to answer the call. Mr. Hopkins excused himself and went into the booth and closed the door.