# Ralph on the Overland Express/31

CHAPTER XXXI
CONCLUSION
One hour after daybreak the vicinity of the snowbound Overland Express resembled a picture, rather than a forlorn blockade.
The lone adventurers who had made the trip from the stalled freight had been a relief party indeed. The engineer was a railroader of long experience, and he had thought out the dilemma of the refugees. He and his companions had broken open a freight car and had brought each a good load. There was coffee, sugar, crackers, canned meats, a ham, and, what was most welcome to anxious mothers and their babes, a whole crate of condensed milk.
There never was a more jolly breakfast than that aboard the snowbound coaches. There was plenty to eat and to spare all around, and plenty more at the stalled freight, everybody knew. In front of the engine many a merry jest went the rounds, as the train crews and some of the ​passengers broiled pieces of succulent ham on the end of pointed twigs.
"You see, it was this way," Archie Graham explained to the young engineer of No. 999. "I was just watching a chance for washouts or snowstorms to get on a train diving into the danger. Those red bombs are my invention. I shoot them from a gun. I can send them a mile or gauge thm to go fifty feet. They ignite when they drop, and by sending out a lot of them they are bound to land somewhere near the train you aim at. The engineer is bound to take notice, just as you did, of the glare, and that's where they beat the fusees and save the running back of a brakeman."
"Archie," said Ralph honestly, "I believe you're going to hit some real invention some time."
"I helped out some with my patent rocket signals this time," declared Archie.
"You did, my lad," observed Fogg with enthusiasm, "and the passengers know all about it, and they've mentioned you in a letter they're getting up to the company saying how they appreciate the intelligence—that's Fairbanks—the courage, ahem! that's me, and the good-heartedness, that's all of us, of the two train crews."
By the middle of the afternoon a snow plow opened up the line from Rockton to the stalled train. It was not until two mornings later, ​however, that the main line was open and Ralph and Fogg got back to Stanley Junction.
Archie came on the same train. Ralph asked him up to the house, but the young inventor said he wanted the quiet of his hotel room to work on his signal rocket idea, which he declared would amount to something yet.
The young engineer had scarcely got in the house after the warm, cheerful greeting of his anxious mother, when Zeph Dallas put in an appearance.
Zeph was looking exceedingly prosperous. He wore a new, nicely-fitting suit of clothes, a modest watch and chain, and was quite dignified and subdued, for him.
"When you've had your breakfast, Ralph," he said, "I've got something to tell you."
"Yes," nodded Ralph, "I'm expecting to hear a pretty long story from you, Zeph."
The young engineer hurried his breakfast and soon joined Zeph in the sitting-room.
"Say, Ralph," at once observed his friend, "you've done some big things in your time, but the biggest thing you ever did was when you saw to it that Jim Evans and Ike Slump, and most of all, that fellow, Morris, were held as prisoners by Adair, the road detective."
​"I fancied they deserved locking up," remarked Ralph.
"There would have been a murder if you hadn't seen to it," declared Zeph. "I've a story to tell that would make your hair stand on end, but it would take a book to tell it all."
"I'm here to listen, Zeph," intimated Ralph.
"Yes, but I'm due to meet Mr. Adair at the jail. He's sent Evans and Slump back to the prison they escaped from. I hurried on here from the Fordham cut purposely to tell him what I wanted done with Morris."
"I say, Zeph," rallied the young railroader, "you seem to have a big say in such things for a small boy."
"That's all right," declared Zeph good-naturedly; "I'm all here, just the same, and I'm here for a big purpose. In a word, not to mystify you, Ralph, for you know only half of the story, I was hired by Marvin Clark, the son of the Middletown & Western Railroad president, to do all I've done, and I have been royally paid for it."
"Then you must have done something effective," observed Ralph.
"Clark thought so, anyway. I'll try and be brief and to the point, so that you'll understand in a nutshell. You know Marvin Clark and Fred Porter and the two Canaries?"
​The young engineer nodded assentingly.
"Well, as I say, I ran across Clark accidentally in my stray wanderings. He and a sickly boy named Ernest Gregg were living in a fixed-over building at Fordham Spur. I seemed to be just the person Clark was waiting for. He hired me to do some work for him. He was planning to get the poor boy, Gregg, his rights."
"Yes, I know about that," observed Ralph.
"Then if you do, I can hurry over things. It seems that when he began to look up Gregg's affairs, he found out that Ernest had a strange hermit of a grandfather, named Abijah Gregg. Ernest's father was an only son. About five years ago the old man discovered a terrible forgery in which he was robbed of over ten thousand dollars. He had reason to believe that Ernest's father and a man named Howard were responsible for it. He disowned his son and all his family, and a month later Ernest's father died, leaving his son a disowned and homeless outcast."
"And what became of Howard?" inquired the interested Ralph.
"He disappeared. Old Gregg became soured at all humanity after that," narrated Zeph; "the more so because he had a profligate nephew who turned out bad. This was the man in jail here now."
​"Lord Lionel Montague—Morris?"
"Yes, Morris robbed the old man, who became afraid of him. The old man tried to hide away from everybody. In his wanderings he picked up the two Canaries and settled down at the lonely place at Fordham Cut. He was very rich, partly paralyzed, and intended to leave his fortune to the state, rather than have any relative benefit by it. Well, Marvin Clark, the splendid, unselfish fellow, got a clew to all this. He located old Abijah Gregg. He spent just loads of money following down points, until he discovered that the man Howard was a broken-down invalid in New Mexico. Clark was sick himself for a month, and that was why Fred Porter did not hear from him."
"And later?' asked Ralph.
"I ran across Porter and brought him to tht Spur about a month ago. He is there now. Well, Clark found out positively that Ernest's father never had a thing to do with forgery. It had been really committed by Howard and this villain, Morris. He got in touch with Howard in New Mexico, who was a dying man. He found him anxious to make what reparation he could for a wicked deed. Old Gregg would not go to New Mexico. Howard could only live where the air was just right for him. The physicians said that ​if he ever went to any other climate, the change of atmosphere would kill him. With plenty of money at his command, Clark arranged it all. The New Mexico doctors got a tank that held an artificial air, and Clark arranged so that Howard could come east in a special car."
"And the first tourist car that you ran empty to the Spur?" inquired Ralph.
"Why, we knew that Morris was trying every way to locate and annoy his uncle. We thought that maybe he had got onto our plans about Howard. We ran the dummy car to see if we were being watched. Don't you see, that if Morris had succeeded in smashing the glass air tank, Howard would have died before he could tell his story to old Mr. Gregg."
"And now?" said Ralph.
"The story has been told. Old Mr. Gregg is convinced that his son was innocent of forgery. He will take care of his grandson and make him his heir, and young Clark, as you see, has done a grand thing."
"Yes, indeed," assented Ralph.
"Howard will return to New Mexico with a relieved conscience. I am going to the jail here now to see Morris. If he will agree to leave the country and never annoy his uncle again, I will give him a certain large sum of money, as directed ​by his uncle. If he doesn't, he will be prosecuted for the forgery."
"Zeph," observed the young railroader enthusiastically, "you have proven yourself not only a real detective, but a splendid lawyer, as well."
"Thank you," returned Zeph, and blushed modestly; "most everybody that gets in with you does some kind of good in the world."
It was two hours later when a messenger came to the Fairbanks home with a letter for Ralph.
The young engineer flushed with pleasure as he read a brief communication from the master mechanic, advising him that Mr. Robert Grant president of the Great Northern, was at Stanley Junction, and wished to see him for a few minutes at the Waverly Hotel.
Ralph told his mother of the incident, and her eyes followed him fondly and proudly as, arrayed in his best, Ralph started out to keep his appointment.
It was a warm welcome that the young railroader received from the great railroad magnate. Mr. Grant went over their mutual experiences the night of the wild dash of the special from Rockton to Shelby Junction.
"You did a most important service for the road that night, Faibanks," said the railroad president; "how much, is a secret in the archives of the ​company, but I can say to you confidentially that the Mountain Division would have passed to another line if we had not acted in time."
"I am very glad," said Ralph modestly.
"I want to acknowledge that service. I am only the president of the road," said Mr. Grant, smiling, and Ralph smiled, too, "so being a servant of the road, I must act under orders. I learned that, like all thrifty young men, you had a savings account at the bank here. I have deposited there the company's check for one thousand dollars to your account."
"Oh, Mr. Grant——" began Ralph, but the railroad president held up his hand to check the interruption.
"As to Fogg," went on Mr. Grant, "the road has closed up the subscription in his behalf, by giving him sufficient to rebuild his burned-down house."
Ralph's face was aglow with pride, pleasure and happiness.
"So, good-by for the present, Fairbanks," concluded the railroad president, grasping Ralph's hand warmly. "There are higher places for ambitious young men in the service of the road, as you know. I shall not try to influence your plans, for I know that sheer merit will put you forward ​when you decide to advance. As to my personal influence, that, you know, is yours to command. For the present, however, we should regret to see the Overland Express in other hands than those of the youngest and the best engineer on the Great Northern."