"Eh?" spoke the other. "Ralph! well, the gladness is mutual," and the
pair shook hands cordially.

"What brought you here?" asked Ralph.

"Came down from headquarters in the timber on important business,"
replied Van. "Just sending a telegram."

"Why!" almost shouted Ralph, glancing at the blank upon which his
friend had just written a name, "to Mr. Grant, to the president of the
Great Northern!"

"Yes," answered Van. "Does that startle you?"

"It does. What are you wiring him for?"

"About his nephew, Dudley Trevor."

Ralph was fairly taken off his feet, as the saying goes. He grasped
Van's arm excitedly.

"See here, Van Sherwin," he cried. "What do you know of Mr. Trevor?"

"Only that he is at our headquarters with a broken arm, and he sent me
here to wire his uncle the fact."

Ralph was delighted. He could scarcely credit the glad news. He led
Van up to the railroad president and the road detective with the
words:

"Gentlemen, I am very happy to tell you that Mr. Trevor is in safe
hands, and my friend here will explain. Van Sherwin, this is Mr.
Grant, the president of the Great Northern."

Van nodded in his crisp, off-hand way to Adair, whom he knew, and took
off his cap to his dignified companion.

His story was to his auditors most remarkable and exciting, but to Van
only the narration of a perfectly natural occurrence. Early that
morning there had come into "headquarters," as Van termed it, a young
man in an almost exhausted condition. His attire was all torn with
brambles and bushes and one arm was broken.

"He told us his name, and said that he had escaped from kidnappers.
Mr. Gibson attended to his arm, and sent me to Dover here to
telegraph to you, sir," explained Van to the railroad president.

Mr. Grant was so glad and excited he could not sit still.

"Take me to him at once!" he cried. "My dear lad, you have brought
happy news to me."

"I don't know about going to see him," said Van. "It is over twenty
miles away in the woods."

"Allow me to explain, Mr. Grant," said Adair. "Between here and Wilmer
is a wild, wooded stretch of land known as The Barrens."

"I know of it," nodded Mr. Grant. "The Great Northern once surveyed
two miles into the section, but abandoned the route as impracticable.
There are only about twenty houses in the district, and the
difficulties of clearing and grading were discouraging."

"Well," said Adair, "it appears that a man named Farwell Gibson
secured a