"Here it is," he exclaimed, "and it's signed by 'King Pin' Stetson himself: 'Keep freight moving at all hazards.'" "It's signed by Mr. Stetson, you say?" exclaimed Ralph eagerly. "Sure. He's the main boss on this road, you know, and----" "I know, I know!" cried Ralph eagerly, "but is he here across the border?" "Huh? Not he. He's in the best hotel in El Paso, consulting and smoking two-bit seegars. But my job's here, and here I stick." But Ralph and Jack had not heard this speech. A light shone in the Eastern boy's eyes, the light of a great idea. "There's a locomotive yonder, Jack," he whispered. "I can run one. I learned one summer when pop took me over the Squantock and Port Gloster line. You said there was a branch connecting with the Esmeralda. Why can't we go by rail?" "By ginger, Ralph! Have you got the nerve?" "Look at me." Jack regarded his comrade an instant. There wasn't a flicker of an eyelash to show that Ralph was the least bit nervous. The experiences of the last few days had taught him much. While Bill Whiting regarded them curiously, Jack hastily told the others of what Ralph had proposed. "That appeals ter me as a ring-tailed roarer of a good idee," announced Buck Bradley, when he had finished. "Waal, I'm more used ter doin' my fightin' ahorseback than from a loco, but I guess it goes here," chimed in Pete. "An eminently sensible suggestion," was the professor's contribution. The maimed ankle of the man of science was now almost well, and, as he put it, he was "restored to his customary salubriosity." "Then, all we've got to do, is to get permission to take the locomotive," declared Jack. He turned to Bill Whiting, who had been eyeing them curiously. "We've got to get through to the Esmeralda mine," he said. "Our auto is broken down, and yet the fate of the mine, and perhaps the lives of its defenders, hang upon our arrival there as soon as possible. Have we your authority to run the locomotive through?" "Say, son," drawled Bill Whiting, "put on your brakes. That's a compound, and even supposing I could let you take her, how would you run her?" "There's a boy here who can run her all right," cried Jack impatiently. "All we need to have is your authority." Bill Whiting shook his head. "Sorry," he said. "I don't know you, and that loco's railroad property. I'm responsible fer it. Suppose you'd ditch her? No--blazes!--it wouldn't do at all." "I'll give yer a hundred dollars gold fer two hours use uv that ingine," cried Buck Bradley. "No good," declared Bill, shaking his head; "it's railroad property. I've got my job to look after, even if Chihuahua is turned inside out." "But this is a matter of the utmost urgency," argued Jack. "Listen." He rapidly detailed the outlines of their situation to the agent. The man was obdurate, however. "Couldn't nobody touch that ingine but old man Stetson himself."