Ralph sent a message to Glidden, more explicitly explaining affairs. He announced that he would return to the Junction on the first train he could catch. He was pretty well satisfied with his work of the night, for he had done his level best and he felt sure there would be some further outcome when Bob Adair's assistant reported. "You seem to have had some trouble here," observed Ralph, with a glance at the shattered window as he left the instrument. "Yes, and this too," said the operator, indicating his bandaged eye. "Nearly blinded." "How is that?" inquired Ralph. "The west freight, about an hour ago. She passes on her usual whiz. About the middle of the train some one let fly a board--a box cover. It slashed through the window, took me in the face and keeled me clear over." "That is strange," commented Ralph. "Are you sure it was thrown?" "What could it blow off from?" "That's so." "There's the identical timber," continued the operator, touching with his foot a piece of wood as they came out to the stove again. "I used half of it to mend the fire." Ralph picked up the piece of wood out of curiosity. As he did so he made a discovery. Its smooth side, though blurred, bore some faint black marks like letters and words. It looked as if scratched with a blunt cinder on the ends of burned matches. In breaking the wood to mend the fire the operator had split the piece transversely removing a part of a written line, but to his amazement Ralph could make out these words: "Send word to Ralph Fairbanks, Stanley Junction, that Glen Palmer is--" The remainder of this queer message was missing--ashes in the depot stove. What had been the writing complete, and what did it mean? CHAPTER XVIII THE SLUMP "SECRET" "Wake up, Ralph." The young dispatcher of Stanley Junction jumped out of bed in a bound. He felt that he could have slept half a dozen hours longer, but to every railroad man the call "wake up" means duty waits, no delay, and Ralph responded to the urgent call without hesitation. The echo of a series of light tappings on the door and of his mother's voice mingled with her departing footsteps. He called out: "What is it, mother?" "A telephone message from the superintendent." "Good--something is stirring," reflected Ralph, and hurried his dressing. "Well, enough has happened since yesterday to interest the president of the road himself," he went on, musing. "They wanted some house cleaning done, and it has begun in a vigorous way." It was early in the afternoon. Just after daybreak that morning Ralph had reached Stanley Junction on top of a freight car. He had found Glidden in charge of the situation at the relay station. "You've hit the mark, Fairbanks," were his first commendatory words. "The assistant superintendent was here for an hour with me after we got that rough and tumble message from you down the line." "It was a cross tree experiment. Wasn't it a jumble?" inquired Ralph.