"Hello!" he ejaculated in a sharp half whisper. "What does this mean, Fairbanks? It's the president of the Great Northern." CHAPTER XXVII THE RAILROAD PRESIDENT As the person Fogg designated pushed back his storm cap and came under the light of a bracket lamp, Ralph observed that the fireman had been correct in his surmise--it was Mr. Robert Grant, president of the road. He busied himself removing the snow from his garments and taking in the warmth of the place, while his companion came forward to the doghouse. Ralph and Fogg drew to one side, curious and interested. They now recognized the man who had entered the roundhouse with the president as Lane, superintendent of the Mountain Division of the Great Northern. His manner was hurried, worried and serious. A big load of responsibility rested on his official shoulders, and he realized it and showed it. He nodded brusquely to Ralph and Fogg, and then went up to the desk where the foreman sat. "Get the dispatcher's office, Jones, and get it quick," he spoke tersely, and he added something in an undertone. The foreman gave a slight start. From the way he turned and stared at the companion of the superintendent, Ralph could trace that he had just been informed of his identity. "Here you are," said the foreman, after a minute at the 'phone and handing the receiver to the superintendent. The latter, without seating himself, instantly called over the wire: "This is Superintendent Lane. I want the chief dispatcher." A pause. "That you, Martin?--Yes?--Hold the wire. The president of the road wants to talk with you. Mr. Grant." Ralph knew the railroad president quite well. It was a long time since he had seen him. That was at headquarters, after Ralph and some of his railroad friends had succeeded in rescuing a relative of the official from a band of blackmailers. Ralph did not believe that the president would remember him. He was both surprised and pleased when the official, glancing about in his keen, quick way, smiled and mentioned his name in greeting, nodded to Fogg, and then went up to the foreman's table. Spread out upon this was an outline map of the great Northern and all its branches. The foreman had been utilizing it as an exigency chart. He had three pencils beside it--red, green and blue, and these he had used to designate by a sort of railroad signal system the condition of the lines running out of Rockton. Red signified a wreck or stalled train, green snow blockades, blue bridges down and culverts under water. The map was criss-crossed with other special marks, indicating obstructions, flood damage and the location of wrecking crews. "As bad as that!" commented the president in a grave tone, with a comprehensive glance over the chart. Then he picked up the receiver. "Martin, chief dispatcher," he spoke through the 'phone. "Give me the situation over the Mountain Division in a nutshell."