CHAPTER XIIWILLARD ENCOUNTERS A FRIEND
Two days later, Willard, armed with his petition, made the trip to Providence. He had secured fifty-five signatures without difficulty, and as they stood for the prominent and influential citizens of Audelsville both he and Tom felt comfortably certain of success. Willard had offered to let Tom make the journey, but Tom had pointed out that if he did they would lose a day with the car. “Maybe it wouldn’t make much difference,” he added gloomily, “but I guess I’d better stay here and attend to business. We need all the money we can get.”
So it was Willard who boarded the 9:01 that Monday morning and settled himself back in a red plush seat with a feeling of vast importance. The agent at Audelsville had told him where to find the railroad offices when he reached his destination and had even taken enough interest in the project to suggest that Willard see the Division Superintendent in the forenoon.He would be in better humor then, thought the local agent.
Possibly neither you nor I would have considered the trip to Providence anything more than a bore, but to Willard, who seldom traveled by train, it was quite exciting and very far from being a bore. He arrived at Providence almost a whole hour before noon and made his way at once to the offices of the railroad, which occupied all of a big, old-fashioned brick building across the street from the station. An elevator took him past one floor and deposited him on the next, and he wandered down a long, dim corridor lined with doors whose upper halves held ground glass variously inscribed with figures and letters. Room 18 was found at last and, uncertain whether to knock or walk boldly in, Willard finally turned the knob and entered. Inside he found himself confronted by a counter which ran the width of the room and behind which were three desks occupied by as many busy men. As no one paid any attention to him, at the end of a minute Willard summoned his courage.
“I’d like to see the Division Superintendent,” he announced to the room at large. A young man with a worried expression looked up and fixed Willard with a stern gaze.
“Business?” he demanded.
“Yes, sir,” replied Willard.
“Business?” demanded the man in a louder tone.
“Oh—why—if you please, I’d like to see him about getting a stand at Audelsville,” stammered Willard.
“Stand?” The man frowned. A second occupant of the room bobbed his head inquiringly around the corner of his desk, scowled and disappeared again. Willard wondered if he was the Superintendent. “What sort of a stand?” demanded the first man crossly.
“Why, a stand for an automobile.” Willard pulled his petition from his pocket and the man arose and came to the counter, stretching a hand forth for the document. Willard gave it to him and the man skimmed it quickly. Then:
“I see,” he said rather contemptuously, deftly dipping a pen in an ink-well and proffering it. “All right. Put your name and address in the corner here and leave it.”
“Leave it?” Willard, with pen in hand, hesitated.
“Yes. We’ll let you hear in a few days. Hurry up, please.”
“But—but I’d rather see Mr. Cummings himself, sir!”
“I dare say. But Mr. Cummings is busy. He can’t see everyone, you know, kid.”
“But I came all the way from Audelsville, sir!”pleaded Willard. “I—I might just as well have mailed this if—if I can’t see him.”
“Just as well,” replied the other, yawning frankly and glancing at the electric clock on the wall. “Well?”
“Don’t you think he’d see me for just a minute? Would you mind asking him, please?”
“Yes, I’d mind very much,” was the impatient reply. “If you want to leave this application put your name on it. If you don’t, move along. We’re busy here, my young friend.”
“But——” Willard sighed disappointedly—“if I could just wait here until he was at leisure——”
The door behind him opened and closed briskly, and a familiar voice asked: “Cummings in, Jones?”
“Yes, Mr. Latham. Step right in, sir.” The man, now smiling and eager to please, hurried toward the end of the counter, lifted a hinged section of it and stood aside while the newcomer hurried through and tapped at a door which Willard had not noticed. In an instant the door had opened and closed and Mr. Latham had disappeared into the inner office. The clerk, for Willard decided that he was no more than that, sauntered back.
“That was Mr. Latham, wasn’t it?” asked Willard.
The clerk nodded.
“Well, I guess I’d like to speak to him when he comes out. May I wait here?”
“Do you know Mr. Latham?”
Willard nodded as carelessly as the clerk. There was nothing to be gained by modesty, he felt. “Yes, I know him,” he said.
Evidently impressed, the clerk moved back to his desk. “All right. Take a seat there.”
Willard returned his petition to his pocket and retired to one of the two chairs along the wall. Ten minutes passed, and then ten minutes more, and finally the door opened again and Mr. Latham came through. Willard waited until the first vice-president was outside the counter. Then:
“Mr. Latham, may I speak to you a minute, please?” he asked, intercepting the gentleman in front of the door.
“Eh?” The official paused. “Certainly, my boy. Hello, I’ve seen you before, haven’t I?”
“Yes, sir, I—we—took you to the paper mills the other day, you know; at Audelsville, sir.”
“Of course! How are you?” Mr. Latham shook hands heartily. “Let me see, did you tell me your name?”
“No, sir. My name’s Willard Morris.”
“Well, Morris, what can I do for you? Here, let’s sit down a minute. Now then!”
“We want to be allowed to stand our automobile at the station, sir. You see, as it is now, they won’tlet us because Connors, the livery stable man, has the—the exclusive privilege. It’s hard to get passengers, Mr. Latham, unless you’re at the platform. Folks don’t see you, sir.”
“I suppose not. What’s this?”
“It’s a petition. It’s got fifty-five signatures on it, sir. I thought maybe——”
“Very business-like, Morris.” Mr. Latham smiled as he ran his eyes over the petition. “Well, you’d better see Cummings about this. He’s the one to go to.”
“That’s what I came here for, sir, but they said he was too busy and wanted me to leave this.”
“Oh, I guess he’s got time to see you. You come with me.” Mr. Latham led the way past the counter and knocked again at the inner door. “Charlie, here’s a young gentleman who wants to see you,” announced the First Vice-President as, followed by Willard, he entered and closed the door again. “He’s got a petition signed by about half the citizens of Audelsville. See what you can do for him, will you? Morris, this is Mr. Cummings. Charlie, shake hands with Mr. Willard Morris, one of Audelsville’s hustling citizens.”
The big man at the big desk smiled and shook hands. “Glad to do anything I can for you, Mr. Morris,” he said. “What’s wanted?”
“Show him that document, Morris,” directed Mr. Latham.
Mr. Cummings read it and then looked dubiously at Mr. Latham.
“Seems to me we’ve let somebody have the station privilege at Audelsville, Henry,” he said.
“We have, but competition’s the life of trade, they say, Charlie, and these young gentlemen are particular friends of mine. I guess we can let them in, can’t we?”
“I suppose so.” Mr. Cummings pressed one of a row of buttons at the edge of his desk and almost at once a clerk entered. “Dictation, Graham.” The clerk seated himself, pulled a book from his pocket and poised a pencil. Mr. Cummings fixed his eyes on the ceiling. “To——” He glanced at the petition in his hand—“To Benton and Morris Transportation Company, Audelsville, R. I. ‘Gentlemen: Your application for platform privilege at Audelsville station received and same is hereby granted, terminable at our discretion. We have notified our agent to afford you space for one’—eh?”
“Could you make it two, please?” asked Willard.
The Passenger Agent shot a glance of inquiry at the First Vice-President, and the latter, with a smile, nodded.
“All right. ‘Space for two vehicles. Respectfully,and so forth.’ Typewrite that immediately, please, and I’ll sign it. Here’s another. ‘Agent, Audelsville, R. I. Benton and Morris Transportation Company granted platform privilege until further notice. You will provide them space for two vehicles. Respectfully and so forth.’ That all I can do for you?”
“Yes, sir, thank you very much,” replied Willard. “Good morning.”