exploit of the night had shaken his nerves
naturally, and reminded him of all the perils that accompanied a
practical railroad career. A stern sense of responsibility made him
thoughtful and grave, and he had in mind many a brave, loyal fellow
whose fame had been unheralded and unsung, who had stuck to his post
in time of danger and had given up his life to save others.

No. 999 was back at Stanley Junction by eight o'clock the next
morning. When Ralph reached home he was so tired out he did not even
wait for breakfast, but went straightway to his bed.

He came down the stairs in the morning bright as a dollar, to hear his
mother humming a happy song in the dining-room, and Fred Porter
softly accompanying with a low-toned whistle on the veranda. The
latter, waving a newspaper in his hand, made a dash for Ralph.

"Look!" he exclaimed, pointing to some sensational headlines. "They've
got you in print with a vengeance. A whole column about 'the last
heroic exploit of our expert young railroader and rising
townsman--Engineer Fairbanks.'"

CHAPTER XIX

THE BOY WHO WAS HAZED

"Well, Porter, proceed."

Ralph gave the direction. He and Fred were seated in the garden
summer-house, settled comfortably on benches facing each other across
a rustic table, after a good breakfast, a general restful feeling
permeating them.

"All right," assented Fred. "Before I begin, though, I wish to make a
remark. The way your mother and yourself have treated me has been just
royal--I'll never forget it!"

"And never forget us," directed the young engineer with a warm,
friendly smile. "You'll always find yourself welcome in this house."

"That's what gets me," said Fred, and there was a slight tremor and a
suspicion of tears in his voice. "Most fellows would have little to do
with an impostor, eh?"

"That's a pretty hard word, Porter," intimated Ralph. "Just the same,
I believe in you. I have had confidence in you all along."

"And my story won't disturb it any," declared Fred. "Well, to
begin--my name is not Marvin Clark."

"Of course, I know that already."

"It is Fred Porter."

"So you have told me."

"I am an orphan, homeless. As I said when I first came here, I have
been a sort of a knockabout, a wanderer. I have been a poor boy. The
real Marvin Clark, whose father is the real and genuine president of
the Middletown & Western Railroad, is a rich boy. I have saved his
life when he was drowning. He likes me for that