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?" "Don't know--never saw the boy before. He's a stranger in Riverton. Came up to me and gave me a half-a-dollar to come here and deliver a message to you." "Let me know it," directed Ralph. "Come out here on the tracks, and I'll show you where he said you was to come to see him. See that old shed over beyond those freights? Well, the boy said you was to come there." "Oh, he did?" commented Ralph musingly. "Yes, he said to come alone, as it was particular. He said you'd know when I said Martin--Martin, oh, yes, Clark, that's it." "Marvin Clark," decided the young railroader at once, and as the messenger went his way Ralph ran to the engine cab, threw off his jacket and then walked down the tracks. He of course thought of Fred Porter at once. It looked as though that individual had turned up again and had sent for him, and Ralph was glad to hear from him at last. The building that had been pointed out to him by the boy messenger was a storage shed for repair tools and supplies. Ralph passed a line of damaged freights, and reaching the shed, found its door open. He stepped across the threshold and peered around among the heaps of iron and steel. "Is anybody here?" he inquired. "Yes, two of us," promptly responded a harsh, familiar voice, that gave Ralph a start, for the next instant his arms were seized, drawn behind him, and the young engineer of No. 999 found himself a prisoner. CHAPTER XXII IKE SLUMP AGAIN Ralph knew at once that he had fallen into a trap of some kind. He struggled violently, but it was of no avail. Two persons had slipped up behind him, two pairs of hands were holding him captive. "Who are you?" demanded the young engineer sharply, over his shoulder. There was no response, but he was forced forward clear back into the shed. The front door was kicked shut. Ralph was thrown roughly among a heap of junk. He recovered himself quickly and faced his assailants. The light in the place was dim and uncertain. The only glazed aperture in the shed was a small window at the rear. With considerable interest Ralph strained his gaze in an endeavor to make out his captors. Then in immense surprise he recognized both. "Ike Slump and Jim Evans," he spoke aloud involuntarily. "You call the roll," observed Evans with a sneer.