"I call myself one."
"You have worked on a railroad?"
"Sure—for two years."
"What railroad?"
Van regarded Ralph quizzically.
"Tell you, Fairbanks," he said, "that's straight, although the railroad hasn't a name yet, hasn't turned a wheel, is so far only two miles long, and that's all grading and no rails."
"Well, you present a truly remarkable proposition," observed Ralph.
"Isn't it? It's a reality, all the same. And it's the key to a situation worth hundreds of thousands."
"You mystify me," acknowledged Ralph,—"allowing you are in earnest."
"Absolutely in earnest. No joshing. I'm quite interested, too, for I'm one of the two men who have built the railroad so far."
"Who is the other?"
Van shook his head.
"That's a secret, for the present. I think you'll know soon, though—soon as you see Mr. Gibson."
Ralph had to be content with this. He comprehended that there was some basis to Van's railroad pretensions, and felt very curious concerning the same.
