# Ralph on the Engine/Chapter 11

CHAPTER XI
KIDNAPPED
Ralph climbed to the engineer's seat with many misgivings and very anxious concerning his missing partner. He knew how to run an engine, for the young fireman had watched Griscom at his duties, had studied every separate piece of machinery thoroughly, and more than once had relieved the veteran engineer for brief periods of time between stations.
"That was all well enough on a regular run," thought Ralph, "but a special is a different thing."
Then, coming to the switch tower, he called up to the operator there, who was at the open window. He explained hurriedly about the disappearance of Griscom. He also asked the towerman to telegraph ahead to Dover for a substitute engineer. The operator said he would have some men come down from the first station back on the route on a handcar to search for the missing railroader.
​"Man on your cowcatcher there," he called down as Ralph started up the engine.
"No time to bother with him now. Let him ride to Dover, if he wants to," advised Trevor. "Now, Fairbanks, you to the throttle, me to the furnace. Just give me a word of direction when I need it, won't you?"
But for his anxiety concerning his missing partner, the young fireman would have enjoyed the run of the next two hours immensely. There was a clear track—he had only to look out for signals. He was entirely familiar with the route, and Trevor proved a capable, practical assistant.
"Don't look much like the man who left a palace car to step into a locomotive at Stanley Junction, eh?" laughed the young man, reeking with perspiration, and greasy and grimed. "How do I do—all right?"
"You must have had experience in the fireman line," submitted Ralph.
"Why, yes," acknowledged Trevor. "My uncle made me work in a roundhouse for a year. Once I believe I could run an engine, but I've forgotten a good deal. Fairbanks, look ahead!"
There was no occasion for the warning. Already the young fireman had discovered what his companion announced. As the locomotive glided ​around a sharp curve a great glare confronted them.
Not two hundred yards ahead was a mass of flames shooting skywards. The bridge crossing a creek that was located at this part of the route was on fire.
Ralph started to slow down. Then, discerning the impossibility of doing so this side of the burning structure, he set full speed.
"It's make or break," he said, in a kind of gasp.
"Put her through—take the risk," ordered Trevor sharply.
Swish! crackle! crash!—it was an eventful moment in the career of the young fireman. There was a blinding glow, a rain of fire swayed through the locomotive cab, then, just as they cleared the bridge, the structure went down to midstream.
"We must get this news to Dover quick," said Ralph, applying himself anew to lever and throttle. "We have ten minutes to make up then."
Clink!—snap!—a terrific jar shook the locomotive. Contrary to signal given at the nearest switch ahead, the engine veered to a siding.
"What does this mean?" demanded Trevor sharply.
​"Mischief—malice, perhaps," said Ralph quickly. "Freights ahead—we shall have to stop.
"Don't do it," directed Trevor. "Drive into them and push them ahead to the main line again. I'll stand all damage."
"They are empties, I noticed them on the afternoon run," said the young fireman. "Mr. Trevor, all this complication, all these happenings are suspicious. We will have to slow down to the freights."
"Slow down entirely," growled a sudden voice. "Do it, or I'll have it done by my partner, who is aboard all right."
Both Ralph and Trevor turned sharply. Standing on the coal of the tender was a man. He was dripping with water, and in one hand held a revolver.
"No delay, Fairbanks," he cautioned sternly. "We've taken too much trouble to miss this last chance to get you and your passenger."
Ralph stopped the engine. Then calmly, but with a certain sense of peril and defeat, he faced the man.
"Where did you come from?" demanded Trevor in amazement.
"Only from inside the water tank," responded the stranger coolly. "Been there since we left Stanley Junction."
​"Why, you are one of the fellows who were following me at the depot!" cried Trevor.
"Correct, boss," chuckled the stranger. "Here's my partner," he announced, as the man Ralph had discovered on the cowcatcher appeared at the side of the cab. "We'll relieve you two now," continued the speaker to Ralph and Trevor. "Move back on that coal. We'll try a bit of engineering ourselves."
"See here, my man," called out Trevor sharply. "What is the object of all this?"
"Object?" grinned the man. "You'll know later. Important, for it took four men on the route, lots of inquiring before you came to Stanley Junction, two of us here now, others waiting for us somewhere else, to get you dead right."
"Me!" exclaimed Trevor in amazement. "You mean me?"
"Nobody else."
"Why, how are you interested in me?"
"You'll know soon."
"But—"
"Stand back, do as we say, or we'll use force," declared the speaker gruffly.
His companion guarded Ralph and Trevor while he took the engineer's seat. He reversed the engine, ran back to the main tracks, from there, first setting a switch, onto a spur, and, after ​following this for nearly a mile, shut off steam and the locomotive came to a stop.
Then the fellow applied a whistle to his lips. Several men approached the engine. He consulted with them, and came back to Ralph carrying a piece of rope.
"Fairbanks," he said, "we'll have to tie you for safe keeping for a while."
"Won't you explain this?" inquired Trevor, in a troubled way. "See here, men, I am due in the city. I will pay you handsomely to let us proceed on our trip."
"How much?" inquired the man who had acted as engineer.
"I have several hundred dollars with me."
"Not enough," retorted the man. "We want several thousand, seeing you are worth it."
"I haven't a thousand dollars in the world," declared Trevor.
"You are worth twenty thousand," insisted the man confidently. "We'll prove it to you a little later. Here," to his companion, "tie Fairbanks, leave the letter with him, and let us get out of this before anybody is missed."
"One word," said Ralph. "Are you people responsible for the disappearance of Mr. Griscom?"
"Perhaps," said the man. "He's all safe and sound—only out of the way of mischief for a ​spell. One other word, Fairbanks, we didn't fire the bridge."
Trevor looked the picture of distress and uncertainty as he was forced from the locomotive cab.
"You people will regret this high-handed outrage," he cried. "My uncle is president of the Great Northern."
"That is just exactly why you are worth twenty thousand dollars," coolly announced the man who had acted as engineer. "Plain and square, gentlemen, kindly call this a bit of kidnapping scientifically worked at some care and expense. You come with us. Fairbanks will do the rest. Got him tied up?" to his companion. "All right, now put the letter in his pocket."
And, leaving the young fireman bound and helpless on the floor of the cab, the men with Trevor left the scene.