"Didn't I tell you they were all asleep?" demanded Morris. "You'll
find a man near a big glass tank."

"See here," demurred Ike; "I don't want to get into any more trouble.
When it comes to striking a man with that murderous weapon----"

"Murderous fiddlesticks!" interrupted Morris. "You are to hurt nobody.
Smash the tank, that's all--run out, join us, and it's a hundred
dollars cash on the spot, and a thousand when I get my fortune."

"Here goes, then," announced Ike Slump, pushing open the door, "but
what you want to go to all this risk and trouble for to smash an old
glass tank, I can't imagine."

"You'll know later," muttered Morris grimly.

Ralph did not know what the three rascals were up to, but he realized
that it must be something bad. Putting two and two together, thinking
back a bit of all that had occurred concerning Zeph, the Clark boy,
and the Slump crowd, he began to fancy that tourist cars played a big
part in the programme, whatever that programme was. The smashing of
the glass tank, Morris had announced, was worth a hundred dollars to
Ike--might lead to a fortune, he had intimated.

"There's some wicked plot afoot," decided Ralph, "so--back you go, Ike
Slump!"

As Ike stepped across the threshold of the car the young engineer
acted. He had grabbed the coupling pin from Ike's hand, dropped it,
grasped Ike next with both hands and pressed him backwards to the
platform. Ike struggled and himself got a grip on Ralph. The latter
kept forcing his opponent backwards. Ike slipped and went through the
break in the platform railing where the guard chain was unset, and
both toppled to the ground submerged in three feet of snow.

Ralph had landed on top of Ike and he held him down, but the cries of
his adversary had brought Evans and Morris to his rescue. The former
was pouncing down upon Ralph with vicious design in his evil face,
when a new actor appeared on the scene.

It was Zeph Dallas. He came running to the spot with his arms full of
packages, apparently some supplies for the tourist car which he had
just purchased of some store on Railroad Street. These he dropped and
his hand went to his coat pocket. The amateur detective was quite as
practical and businesslike as did he appear heroic, as he drew out a
weapon.

"Leave that fellow alone, stand still, or you're goners, both of you,"
panted Zeph. "Hi! hello! stop those men! They're conspirers, they're
villains!"

Zeph's fierce shouts rang out