eared, however,
as if they were veritable wood elves. Passing the kitchen window, the
young engineer halted.

"Hello!" he uttered. "Zeph Dallas is back again," and then he listened
casually, for Zeph was speaking to his mother.

"Yes, Mrs. Fairbanks," Ralph caught the words, "I'm the bad penny that
turns up regularly, only I've got some good dollars this time. On the
mantel is the money I owe Ralph for the clothes he got me."

"But can you spare the money?" spoke Mrs. Fairbanks.

"Sure I can, and the back board, too," declared Zeph, and glancing in
through the open window Ralph noted the speaker, his fingers in his
vest armholes, strutting around most grandly.

"I can't understand how you came to get so much money in two days,"
spoke the lady. "You couldn't have earned it in that short space of
time, Zeph."

"No, ma'am," admitted Zeph, "but I've got it, haven't I? It's honest
money, Mrs. Fairbanks. It's an advance on my wages--expense money and
such, don't you see?"

"Then you have secured work, Zeph?"

"Steady work, Mrs. Fairbanks."

"What at, Zeph?"

"Mrs. Fairbanks," answered the lad in a hushed, mysterious tone of
voice, "I am hired as a detective."

"You're what?" fairly shouted Ralph through the window.

"Hello! you here, are you?" cried Zeph, and in a twinkling he had
joined Ralph outside the house. "Yes, sir," he added, with an
important air that somewhat amused Ralph, "I've landed this time. On
both feet. Heart's desire at last--I'm a detective."

Ralph had to smile. He recalled the first arrival of honest but
blundering Zeph Dallas at Stanley Junction, a raw country bumpkin.
Even then the incipient detective fever had been manifested by the
crude farmer boy. From the confident, self-assured tone in which Zeph
now spoke, the young railroader was forced to believe that he had
struck something tangible at last in his favorite line.

"What are you detecting, Zeph?" he inquired.

"That's a secret."

"Indeed--and what agency are you working for--the government?"

"That," observed Zeph gravely, "is also a secret--for the present.
See here, Ralph Fairbanks, you're guying me. You needn't. Look at
that."

With great pride Zeph threw back his coat. It was to reveal a star
pinned to his vest.

"Yes," nodded Ralph, "I see it, but it doesn't tell who you are."

"Don't it say 'Special'?" demanded Zeph, with an offended air.

"Yes, I see the word."

"Well, then, that's me--special secret service,