Zeph announced that he would like to stay over at the Fairbanks home until the next day, and was made duly welcome. He amazed and amused Ralph by showing him his "detective outfit," as he called it. It was an incongruous mass, stored away in a flat leather case that he secreted in a great pocket made inside his coat--a wig, false whiskers, a pair of goggles, and a lot of other "secret service" paraphernalia, suggested to Zeph by reading some cheap and sensational detective stories. "Well, I've got to get on the shadowy trail to-day," yawned Zeph, as he got out of bed the next morning. "Where's the shadow, Zeph?" asked Ralph humorously. "Let you know when I find my quarry." "Ha, bad as that?" laughed Ralph. "Oh, you can smile, Ralph Fairbanks," said Zeph resentfully. "I tell you, I'm on a mighty important case and--say, where did you get that?" "What?" "That picture!" exclaimed Zeph, picking up from the bureau the photograph of Marvin Clark, given to the young engineer by Fred Porter the day previous. "Oh, that picture?" said Ralph. "A friend of mine gave it to me. He's trying to find its original, and hoped I could help him." "Trying to find him?" repeated Zeph with big staring eyes. "Whew! I can do that for you." "You can?" demanded Ralph. "I should say so!" "Do you know the original of that picture then?" inquired Ralph. "Sure I do--why, he's the person who hired me to be a detective," was Zeph's remarkable reply. CHAPTER XX "LORD LIONEL MONTAGUE" "You can't get on here!" "But I've got a paus, don't you know." "Paws? Yes, I see," said Lemuel Fogg. "Take 'em off the tender, son, or you'll get a jerk that will land you, for we're going to start up pretty soon." "Hawdly--I have a right here, my man--I've got a paus, don't you know." "See here, my friend, if you are bound for Hadley, this isn't the train." "I didn't say Hadley, sir, I said 'hawdly.'" "He means hardly, Mr. Fogg," put in Ralph, "and he is trying to tell you he has a pass." "Why don't he talk English, then?" demanded the fireman of No. 999 contemptuously, while the person who had aroused his dislike looked indignant and affronted, and now, extending a card to Ralph, climbed up into the tender. He was a stranger to the engineer--a man Ralph could not remember having seen before. His attire was that of a conventional tourist, and his face, words and bearing suggested the conventional foreigner. He wore a short, stubby black mustache and side whiskers, a monocle in one eye, and he had a vacuous expression on his face as of a person of immense profundity and "class." Ralph, glancing over the card, saw that it was a pass from the master mechanic of the road, briefly explaining that the bearer was Lord Lionel Montague, studying up American railroad systems. "We can't offer you a seat, Lord Montague," spoke Ralph politely. "It's rough work in cramped quarters aboard a locomotive."