Off at the edge of the brush, on the inner side, a telegraph instrument had been set up on a barrel. From the instrument a wire ran toward the track. In another moment the sounder of the sender was clicking busily. There was a pause, then the answer came back: Click-click-click-clickety-click! The operator, a seedy-looking fellow over whose whole appearance was written the word “worthless,” swung a lantern so that the light fell on a pad of paper before him. Pencil in hand, he took off the message as it came. “Come over here and read it, sir?” inquired the operator. Black crossed, bending over the sheet. Despite himself the scoundrel started. Then he moved so that the light should not fall across his face. Plainly Black was greatly disappointed. He swallowed hard, then strolled back to the main group, of which Tom was one. “That’s the way to do business,” announced ’Gene Black, with a chuckle. “We sent fake train orders from the top of that barrel, and your own railroad operator handed the orders to the conductor of your through train. Therefore the train is switched off on to the side track at Brewster’s, and the engineer, under the false orders, is allowing his steam to cool. Now, do you believe you will get your train through tonight?” “Oh, yes!” yawned Tom coolly. “For you are lying. The message that came back over the wire from our operator at Brewster’s read in these words: ‘Showed your order to train conductor. He refused order, saying that it was not signed properly. Train has proceeded.’” It was an incautious speech for Tom Reade Black fairly glared into his eyes. “So you can pick up telegraph messages by the sounds” ’Gene demanded. “’Most anyone can who has ever worked over a telegraph key,” Tom admitted. Now that the secret was out, Black plainly showed his anger over the fact that the conductor had refused train orders at Brewster’s. “You S.B. & L. fellows have put up some trick to beat us off!” he declared, looking accusingly into Tom’s face. “What of it?” Reade inquired. “It’s our railroad, isn’t it? Can’t we do what we please with our own road?” “It won’t be your road after tonight!” Black insisted, grinding his teeth in his rage. “Fortunately, we have other ways of stopping that train from getting through. You’ll soon know it, too.” Black called to the tramp operator. “My man, call up the box relay fellow below here.” The sounder clicked busily for some moments. “I have the other box relay man,” declared the operator. “Then send this, very carefully,” Black continued hoarsely: “X-x-x---a-a-a---b-b-b.” The operator repeated it. Black nodded. Once more the instrument clicked. “The other box relay man signals that he has it,” nodded Black’s present operator. “Listen! Everyone of you! Not a sound in this outfit,” commanded ’Gene Black. For fully three minutes the intense silence continued. Then Black turned again to the operator, saying: “Ask the other box relay man if anything has happened near him?”