"Get the dispatcher's office, Jones, and get it quick," he spoke tersely, and he added something in an undertone. The foreman gave a slight start. From the way he turned and stared at the companion of the superintendent, Ralph could trace that he had just been informed of his identity.
"Here you are," said the foreman, after a minute at the 'phone and handing the receiver to the superintendent. The latter, without seating himself, instantly called over the wire:
"This is Superintendent Lane. I want the chief dispatcher." A pause. "That you, Martin?—Yes?—Hold the wire. The president of the road wants to talk with you. Mr. Grant."
Ralph knew the railroad president quite well. It was a long time since he had seen him. That was at headquarters, after Ralph and some of his railroad friends had succeeded in rescuing a relative of the official from a band of blackmailers. Ralph did not believe that the president would remember him. He was both surprised and pleased when the official, glancing about in his keen, quick way, smiled and mentioned his name in greeting, nodded to Fogg, and then went up to the foreman's table.
Spread out upon this was an outline map of the great Northern and all its branches. The foreman had been utilizing it as an exigency chart. He had
