"Don't you worry about omens, my young friend!" chuckled the foreman. "You've about won your spurs, this time. How did you run across that stolen stuff, when those smart, experienced specials never got a sniff of it?"
"Quite by accident," replied Ralph. "I found Ike Slump. As near as I can figure it out, he and his tramp friend had a breakdown near Dover. The tramp appears to have got discouraged or frightened, cut away with Cohen's horses, sold them and decamped, leaving Ike in the lurch. Ike got the wagonload over into a ravine to hide it till he could raft the stuff to a distance, and dispose of it and disappear, too. I nipped his scheme just in time."
Matthewson appeared as glad to see Ralph as Forgan had been. He expressed the liveliest satisfaction at the contents of the report Ralph handed to him.
"I think this will be a final spoke in the wheel of Mr. Inspector Bardon," he said significantly. "Hope you attended to your writing and spelling in this report, Fairbanks?"
"Why so?" inquired Ralph.
"Because the president of the Great Northern is likely to see it before nightfall," announced Matthewson, with a grim chuckle.
The foreman and Ralph returned to the round-