. They
should know what's going on regarding Clark."

The incident did not depart from the young engineer's mind during the
return trip to Stanley Junction, nor for several days later. With the
escape of Evans and Ike Slump, however, the episode ended, at least
for the time being. A week and more passed by, and that precious pair
and their presumable employer, the pretended Lord Montague, seemed to
have drifted out of existence quite as fully as had Zeph, Porter and
young Clark.

One morning there was an animated discussion going on when Ralph
entered the roundhouse. He was greatly interested in it, although he
did not share in the general commotion.

The result of somebody's "confidential" talk with the division
superintendent had leaked out--the Great Northern was figuring to soon
announce its new train.

"As I get it," observed old John Griscom, "the road is in for a bid on
the service the Midland Central is getting."

"You don't mean through business?" spoke an inquiring voice.

"Sure, that," assented the veteran railroader. "We've beat them on the
China & Japan Mail run to Bridgeport, and now the scheme is to run the
Overland Express in from the north, catch her up here, and cut out
Bridgeport at a saving of fifty miles on the regular western run."

"Then they will have to take the Mountain Division from Stanley
Junction."

"Just that, if they expect to make the time needed," assented Griscom.
"Hey, Bill Somers," to a grizzled old fellow with one arm, who was
shaking his head seriously at all this confab, "what you mooning
about?"

"I wouldn't take that run," croaked Somers, "if they gave me a solid
gold engine with the tender full of diamonds. I left an arm on that
route. Say, Dave Little and I had a construction run over those
sliding curves up and down the canyon grades. It lasted a month. There
were snowslides, washouts, forest fires. There's a part of the road
that's haunted. There's a hoodoo over one section, where they kill a
man about once a week. Little lost his leg and his job there. My old
arm is sleeping thereabouts in some ravine. No Mountain Division run
for me, boys!"

"You won't get it, never fear," observed a voice.

"No, I know that," retorted Somers a little sadly, indicating his
helplessness by moving his stump of an arm, "but I pity the fellow who
does."

Day by day after that there were new additions to the fund of gossip
concerning the new run. It all interested Ralph. Nothin