Something his mother had said regarding Zeph Dallas’s dropping out of sight shuttled to and fro in his thought; and at last it pointed to a fixed fact. He thought he saw a way of helping Hopkins find the place of captivity of his lost daughter. But to put this idea to the test he must have freedom. He rushed to the telegraph office the minute he was free of the locomotive and began to put in requests for the master mechanic. But that individual was at neither end of the division, and at that early hour of the day he could not be found. While Ralph in his anxiety was striving to reach Mr. Connoly and was waiting outside the telegraph office, he saw an accommodation from the west pull in, to the tail of which was attached a very familiar private car. He could have tossed up his cap in glee as he started on a run for the end of the platform. Before he reached the private car the general manager stepped down and approached the station. He hailed Ralph genially. “Oh, yes, this is your end of run, isn’t it, Ralph? How are you?” “Terribly troubled, sir,” admitted the young engineer. “It seems your whole division is troubled,” grumbled the general manager. “I have been wondering, boy, if you were not right when you said that an official should be able to see things from the men’s standpoint. This Hopkins——” “Don’t say another word against him!” gasped Ralph. “Let me tell you!” And he proceeded to do so—to tell the genial general manager the particulars of everything that had happened within his ken on the division since Barton Hopkins’ drastic rules had begun to create friction. But mainly Ralph gave the details of the wreck in Shadow Valley, what had led up to it, and what had now resulted from it. His text was, after all, Cherry Hopkins. “You mean to say those blackguards have stolen the supervisor’s daughter?” cried the general manager. “Why, the State police ought to be out after them.” “Here’s the boy who ought to be after them,” declared Ralph boldly, pointing to himself, and he went on to sketch for the general manager his own belief of what should be done in the matter of searching for Cherry. “If I could get excused from this run back to Rockton I’d be able to do something. If they haven’t found her down there in Shadow Valley, I believe I can. I’ll get back to Rockton in time to take out the Midnight Flyer to-night.” “Is there an engineer here able to take over your locomotive?” “Ben Rogers is the man!” exclaimed Ralph. “I’ll put him wise to everything before we reach Timber Brook.” “Go to it then, boy!” exclaimed the general manager. “I am sorry for Barton Hopkins. Until this strike came he was saving money right and left for the Great Northern. It is a pity that he has been under this strain—if he has—all this time. I hope Adair is helping him.”