Part 26 (1/2)

”I said I had influence. I have. You can't work for the Great Northern in Stanley Junction, if I say not.”

Ralph stared at the speaker incredulously. He could not comprehend how Farrington could show the bad policy to put himself on record with such a remark, be his intentions what they might.

”In fact, sir,” said Ralph, ”you mean to intimate that you will get me discharged?”

”I mean just that,” unblus.h.i.+ngly admitted Farrington. ”I will allow no pauper brood to stand in the way of my--of my----”

Ralph felt the blood surge hotly to his temples. With a strong effort he controlled himself.

”Mr. Farrington,” he said quietly, though his voice trembled a trifle, ”you have said quite enough. I want to tell you that you are a wicked, hypocritical old man. You have no interest in my welfare--you are after our little property, because you have learned that the railroad may soon pay a big price for it. You want us out of Stanley Junction, because you are afraid we may find out something about your dealings with my dead father. To carry your point, you threaten me--me, a poor boy, just starting in to win his way by hard work--you threaten to plot against and ruin me. Very well, Mr. Farrington, go ahead. I have too much reliance in the teachings of a good mother to believe that you will succeed.”

”What! what!” shouted the magnate, almost choking with rage and mortification at this unvarnished arraignment, ”you dare to tell me this? In my own house!”

”You invited me here,” suggested Ralph.

”Get out--get out!” cried Farrington, running to the door for his cane.

”You will fail,” spoke Ralph, going down the steps. ”You won't gag me as you have others. As you did----”

Like an inspiration a suggestion came to Ralph Fairbanks' mind at that moment.

It seemed as if he had right before his eyes once more the mysterious, blurred letter that Van had brought. He recalled one of its last words.

He had mistaken it for ”Farewell.” Now the light flashed in upon his soul. ”Farwell” was the name Big Denny had spoken--”Farwell Gibson.”

”As you did Farwell Gibson,” concluded Ralph, at a venture.

”Who? Come back! Stay, Fairbanks, one word!”

The old man's face had grown white. His eyes seemed suddenly haunted with dread.

”That name!” he gasped, clutching at a chair for support. ”What do you know of Farwell Gibson?”

”Only,” answered Ralph, ”that he wrote to my father last week.”

”He--wrote--” choked out Farrington, ”last week--to your father--Farwell Gibson!”

The information was the capping climax. The old man uttered a groan, fell over, carrying the chair he grasped with him, and lay on the porch floor in a fit.

CHAPTER XIX--IKE SLUMP'S FRIENDS

When Ralph reached home after his exciting half-hour with Gasper Farrington, he was considerably wrought up.

He had called for a.s.sistance at the Farrington home as soon as its owner went down in a fit, a servant had hurried to the porch, between them they got Farrington into the house and on a couch, a physician was telephoned for, and as soon as he saw returning signs of consciousness on the part of his host and discerned that his condition was not really serious, Ralph left the place.

Van had gone to bed, and Ralph found his mother alone. They sat in the little parlor, conversing. Mrs. Fairbanks was very much perturbed at Ralph's recital of his sensational encounter with Gasper Farrington.

”I fear he is an evil man, Ralph,” she said, with anxiety. ”He has power, and he will not hesitate to misuse it.”

”He seems to be determined to drive us out of Stanley Junction,” said Ralph. ”And I fear he may succeed.”

”Not while I have you to care for and your interests to protect!”