He was thoughtful and busy formulating in his mind just what he would report at headquarters, and had proceeded less than half a dozen squares from home when passing an alley his name was called. Looking beyond the street Ralph recognized Ike Slump. He wore a very mysterious face and he was urgently beckoning to Ralph. The latter was about to proceed on his way with a gesture of annoyance, when Slump shouted out: "You'll be sorry if you don't see me for a minute or two." "Well, what is it?" inquired Ralph, moving a few feet towards his challenger. "I need five dollars." "Oh, you do?" "Yes, bad. I want you to give it to me." "That's cool." "I've got to get out of town. You'd better let me go." "I don't see how I am preventing you," said Ralph. "You will, when I explain." "Then be quick about it. I have no time to waste." "Neither have I," remarked Slump, with an uneasy glance towards the street. "To be short and sweet, I know Glen Palmer." Ralph started a trifle at this. Slump spoke the name with a knowing look in his eyes and a sidelong leer that was sinister. "Well, what of it?" demanded Ralph. "I thought I'd seen him before the day I met him up at the yards. I racked my brain to recall him. This morning it all came to me." "What do you suppose I care about your knowing him?" inquired Ralph. "Just this: he's a friend of yours, a sort of pet. I understand you started him in the chicken farming business, so you must have some interest in him. All right, I can snip him out of his position of glory double quick," asserted Ike, in a malevolent and threatening way. "Go ahead, what are you driving at?" asked Ralph as calmly as he could. "Five dollars--that's what it will cost you to keep your friend from being exposed. Five dollars, and I bury the secret fathoms deep." "In other words," said Ralph, trying hard to suppress his feelings, "you want to blackmail me?" "Oh, no," assented Slump, "I simply want to sell this photograph," and he drew a card from his pocket. "I went to heaps of trouble to get it. It shows that I did see Glen Palmer before. It was where we were both locked up in jail," shamelessly confessed Slump. Ralph was a good deal taken aback. The words of Slump and the photograph he extended rather took the young railroader's breath away. The portrait was that of a boy dressed in a convict suit, a number on his cap, and the background showed the surroundings of a prison room. "It's too bad," spoke Ralph involuntarily. He was thinking of his misplaced trust in the Palmer boy. All his dark suspicions concerning the old grandfather and the conspirators were instantly revived in the mind of Ralph. "Ain't it, though?" smirked Slump. "Is it worth the price?"