He regarded his tramp friend with some surprise and curiosity as the foreman admitted him. The man had got a clean shave and his face patched up, and apparently had a very satisfactory meal inside of him, for he was blandly cheerful and complacent. "Saw three of our friends on my way here," he said to Ralph. "You mean Dorsett's friends?" "Yes. Two of them were down by the turnpike, probably watching to see if the lawyer or others might come here. The other fellow I spied hanging around the furnace room. He was on the roof once, but he just sneaked away." "What did you come here for?" inquired Bartlett bluntly. "Oh, I took a kind of fancy to this young fellow. He did me a kind turn, and I'd like to return the compliment. Thought maybe there might be a ruction later, and if there is, I'm on your side. So count on me." With a grin and chuckle the speaker bunched up a fist that resembled a huge knot of mahogany. "I think I had better 'phone the lawyer's wife again," suggested Ralph after a moment of thought. "Those fellows lurking around here might do the lawyer some harm." Ralph went to the telephone. As he took down the receiver and applied it to his ear his expert knowledge of telegraphy gave him a quick intuition. "Hello," he said, "we're off the circuit. Worse than that--the instrument is dead." "Is that so?" said the tramp. "Then it explains what that sneaking fellow was doing on the roof. They've cut the telephone wires." CHAPTER XXIII ONE MINUTE AFTER TWELVE The young railroader of Stanley Junction realized that he had assumed no ordinary risk or responsibility in acting the role of a trusted messenger in behalf of the old telegrapher in the train dispatcher's office at headquarters. The situation at Derby had become an exciting and a critical one. Here was Ralph, the factory foreman and this tramp acquaintance cut off from the town, isolated in a lonely spot and surrounded by desperate and dangerous men who were bent on a mission of wreck and ruin. Bartlett looked a little blank. The tramp grinned as was his wont. He looked as if he would not be sorry to engage in the "ruction" he had talked about, to get even with his treacherous enemies. Ralph had grown a trifle uneasy. If the lawyer did not put in an appearance, it was difficult to foresee how affairs would turn out. He did not rely much on Bartlett's Winchester or the brawny fists of the tramp. The young train dispatcher had seen some pretty sharp and definite work done in the name of the law during a railroad strike, and from what he had heard of Dorsett he did not believe he would make a raid on the plant until he was very certain of successfully carrying out his wicked plans.