CHAPTER XVIIMORE DISCIPLINEThat run on the Midnight Flyer was a memorable one for Ralph Fairbanks, not alone because of the importance of the train to the schedule of the division, but because of the mental strain he was under all the way.The general manager’s congratulatory wire that was put into his hand when he climbed aboard his engine for the return trip from Hammerfest, of course pleased him; but the young railroader felt that there was something more due any engineer who pulled that Midnight Flyer and got it into the western terminal on time, as he had.Up in those offices overlooking the Rockton yard, Ralph as chief of the train dispatching crew for the division, had got a little out of touch with the engineers and firemen. He acknowledged it now.He had been complaining because many of the hard-working mechanics had not seemed to do their best in handling the division trains. Back in the same harness that they wore, Ralph could appreciate their difficulties again.“And that’s the matter with Barton Hopkins,” thought the young fellow. “He isn’t as fit as I am, for instance, to manage these men. He never was an engineer, or sprayed coal into a firebox. No, sir! He doesn’t know a thing about this end of railroading, save by theory.“And mere theory is bound to get a man in wrong. Practise is the thing! I wonder how Hopkins will come out of this, if the strike becomes general? Why, the directors and stockholders who praise him so now will fairly crucify him if things go wrong and he is shown to be in any way at fault.”Ralph believed thoroughly that Barton Hopkins was at fault. Every man he talked to on the run was criticizing Supervisor Hopkins.“They’re all knocking the super. The anvil chorus on Hopkins’ past, present, and future seems to be the most popular number on the division program,” Ralph said to his two firemen.“Should think you would join in, Fairbanks,” said one of them. “You’ve got little to thank him for.”“There is something bigger than Barton Hopkins to consider,” replied Ralph.“Sure! The rules of the Brotherhood,” was the quick reply.“No! The welfare of the road. The Great Northern has supported me for some years. I mean to support it. When I can’t do so I’ll resign and get another job. But I won’t bite the hand that has fed me for so long.”“You would not strike, then, even if the Brotherhood ordered it?” asked one of the firemen.“Only for some very grave reason. Not over such a silly rule as those shopmen went out on.”“Oh, they had plenty of other grievances.”“So have we all. Everybody is sore in these times. It’s in the air. Fault-finding seems to be a germ-producing disease,” and Ralph grinned. “But make up your mind,” and he added this earnestly, “I am not going to be bit by such a microbe as McCarrey. Not any!”Perhaps his sane and sensible speech on every possible occasion did something toward keeping the better class of Great Northern employees steady. But when he got back to Rockton on the return trip he found the yards almost dead. The morning yard shift had gone out when they found that the new order of the supervisor’s on the shop board applied to them as well.At once, of course, the train dispatching department was balled up with late freights. But as it stood, Ralph had no part of that worry on his mind. Mr. Glidden had sent one of his best men from main headquarters to sit at Ralph’s desk, and the latter started home through the bustling streets, weary but satisfied. He hoped to put in a long sleep before being called for the midnight run again.Was it by chance, or with voluntary intention, that the young railroader went through the block on which Cherry Hopkins lived? He did not always walk home that way. But it was true some thought of the pretty girl was almost always in his mind at this time.He had passed the Hopkins house without looking at it and was several yards beyond when he heard a door slam and a clear voice called to him:“Ralph Fairbanks! Ralph Fairbanks!”Ralph wheeled to see the girl, her bobbed hair flying, running down the path and out of the gate. But he saw something else, too. Coming along the sidewalk and increasing his stride as he saw and heard his daughter, was Mr. Barton Hopkins. His countenance displayed all the dislike and disapproval of Ralph that the latter knew the supervisor felt.“Oh, Ralph!” cried the unconscious Cherry. “I want to speak to you.”Ralph walked back to meet her. He did not intend to run from Barton Hopkins. But he foresaw trouble for the pretty and impulsive girl.“Oh, Ralph Fairbanks! I have heard what you did last night. It was fine of you—taking out the Flyer when the poor old engineer dropped dead. What a terrible thing that was!”“You are right. It is a sorry thing for By’s family. I understand he did not leave them well fixed.”“Won’t the Brotherhood——”“It will do all that is possible. But there is no real pension for an engineer’s family. He only carried accident insurance. There must have always been something the matter with his heart that kept him from getting regular insurance. And he hid it.”“And was a criminal, thereby,” said the harsh voice of Supervisor Hopkins behind his daughter. “Suppose that had happened—his death—when he was driving his engine on the road? Somebody was at fault there, and I mean to find out who. The old man should have been retired long ago.”“Oh, father! If he needed the work——”“What do you know about that?” Mr. Hopkins said coldly. “Don’t believe everything you hear, Cherry.”“But Mr. Fairbanks says——”“Least of all what this young man says. And now, once for all, I tell you to drop this intimacy with Fairbanks,” he continued, starting with his daughter toward the gate to the grounds. “I don’t care to have you associate with him. Understand?”“Oh, father!” cried Cherry, almost in tears. “Ralph has been kind to me. I am sure he has done you no harm,” Ralph overheard her reply.“Neither of your statements enters into the consideration at all. I object to your associating with this fellow.”“Why, father!”“You have heard what I have said,” said Barton Hopkins bitterly. “Fairbanks would better keep away from here. As for you, Cherry, I can make you obey me. Let him alone. Don’t speak to him again.”The girl’s head went up and she stared at her father proudly. Ralph had previously decided that she did not take much after her mouse-like mother. In some ways she had all the assertiveness of the supervisor himself.“I will obey you in every way possible, father,” she said softly but firmly. “But I cannot pass Ralph on the street as though I did not know him. He is my friend. He has been kind to me. I could not treat him as you want me to.”“Then, young lady, I’ll send you away where you will not be likely to cross his path. You are getting too bold and stubborn, anyway. Go in and pack your trunk. I’ll see your mother. You shall start this very day for your aunt’s at Selby Junction. Go into the house!”He hustled her up the path toward the house as though she were a small child who had disobeyed him. Cherry was crying. As for Ralph, he had never before so wanted to hit a man and refrained from doing it!“Discipline,” he growled, as he moved away. “That is what he calls it. He runs his household and his family just as he tries to run the division.“Well, sir, unless I much miss my guess, he is going to fall down, and fall down badly, on both propositions. But poor Cherry! Wish I hadn’t walked this way. I got her in bad. And now he’ll send her away and I’ll probably never see her again,” he finished, with a sigh.
That run on the Midnight Flyer was a memorable one for Ralph Fairbanks, not alone because of the importance of the train to the schedule of the division, but because of the mental strain he was under all the way.
The general manager’s congratulatory wire that was put into his hand when he climbed aboard his engine for the return trip from Hammerfest, of course pleased him; but the young railroader felt that there was something more due any engineer who pulled that Midnight Flyer and got it into the western terminal on time, as he had.
Up in those offices overlooking the Rockton yard, Ralph as chief of the train dispatching crew for the division, had got a little out of touch with the engineers and firemen. He acknowledged it now.
He had been complaining because many of the hard-working mechanics had not seemed to do their best in handling the division trains. Back in the same harness that they wore, Ralph could appreciate their difficulties again.
“And that’s the matter with Barton Hopkins,” thought the young fellow. “He isn’t as fit as I am, for instance, to manage these men. He never was an engineer, or sprayed coal into a firebox. No, sir! He doesn’t know a thing about this end of railroading, save by theory.
“And mere theory is bound to get a man in wrong. Practise is the thing! I wonder how Hopkins will come out of this, if the strike becomes general? Why, the directors and stockholders who praise him so now will fairly crucify him if things go wrong and he is shown to be in any way at fault.”
Ralph believed thoroughly that Barton Hopkins was at fault. Every man he talked to on the run was criticizing Supervisor Hopkins.
“They’re all knocking the super. The anvil chorus on Hopkins’ past, present, and future seems to be the most popular number on the division program,” Ralph said to his two firemen.
“Should think you would join in, Fairbanks,” said one of them. “You’ve got little to thank him for.”
“There is something bigger than Barton Hopkins to consider,” replied Ralph.
“Sure! The rules of the Brotherhood,” was the quick reply.
“No! The welfare of the road. The Great Northern has supported me for some years. I mean to support it. When I can’t do so I’ll resign and get another job. But I won’t bite the hand that has fed me for so long.”
“You would not strike, then, even if the Brotherhood ordered it?” asked one of the firemen.
“Only for some very grave reason. Not over such a silly rule as those shopmen went out on.”
“Oh, they had plenty of other grievances.”
“So have we all. Everybody is sore in these times. It’s in the air. Fault-finding seems to be a germ-producing disease,” and Ralph grinned. “But make up your mind,” and he added this earnestly, “I am not going to be bit by such a microbe as McCarrey. Not any!”
Perhaps his sane and sensible speech on every possible occasion did something toward keeping the better class of Great Northern employees steady. But when he got back to Rockton on the return trip he found the yards almost dead. The morning yard shift had gone out when they found that the new order of the supervisor’s on the shop board applied to them as well.
At once, of course, the train dispatching department was balled up with late freights. But as it stood, Ralph had no part of that worry on his mind. Mr. Glidden had sent one of his best men from main headquarters to sit at Ralph’s desk, and the latter started home through the bustling streets, weary but satisfied. He hoped to put in a long sleep before being called for the midnight run again.
Was it by chance, or with voluntary intention, that the young railroader went through the block on which Cherry Hopkins lived? He did not always walk home that way. But it was true some thought of the pretty girl was almost always in his mind at this time.
He had passed the Hopkins house without looking at it and was several yards beyond when he heard a door slam and a clear voice called to him:
“Ralph Fairbanks! Ralph Fairbanks!”
Ralph wheeled to see the girl, her bobbed hair flying, running down the path and out of the gate. But he saw something else, too. Coming along the sidewalk and increasing his stride as he saw and heard his daughter, was Mr. Barton Hopkins. His countenance displayed all the dislike and disapproval of Ralph that the latter knew the supervisor felt.
“Oh, Ralph!” cried the unconscious Cherry. “I want to speak to you.”
Ralph walked back to meet her. He did not intend to run from Barton Hopkins. But he foresaw trouble for the pretty and impulsive girl.
“Oh, Ralph Fairbanks! I have heard what you did last night. It was fine of you—taking out the Flyer when the poor old engineer dropped dead. What a terrible thing that was!”
“You are right. It is a sorry thing for By’s family. I understand he did not leave them well fixed.”
“Won’t the Brotherhood——”
“It will do all that is possible. But there is no real pension for an engineer’s family. He only carried accident insurance. There must have always been something the matter with his heart that kept him from getting regular insurance. And he hid it.”
“And was a criminal, thereby,” said the harsh voice of Supervisor Hopkins behind his daughter. “Suppose that had happened—his death—when he was driving his engine on the road? Somebody was at fault there, and I mean to find out who. The old man should have been retired long ago.”
“Oh, father! If he needed the work——”
“What do you know about that?” Mr. Hopkins said coldly. “Don’t believe everything you hear, Cherry.”
“But Mr. Fairbanks says——”
“Least of all what this young man says. And now, once for all, I tell you to drop this intimacy with Fairbanks,” he continued, starting with his daughter toward the gate to the grounds. “I don’t care to have you associate with him. Understand?”
“Oh, father!” cried Cherry, almost in tears. “Ralph has been kind to me. I am sure he has done you no harm,” Ralph overheard her reply.
“Neither of your statements enters into the consideration at all. I object to your associating with this fellow.”
“Why, father!”
“You have heard what I have said,” said Barton Hopkins bitterly. “Fairbanks would better keep away from here. As for you, Cherry, I can make you obey me. Let him alone. Don’t speak to him again.”
The girl’s head went up and she stared at her father proudly. Ralph had previously decided that she did not take much after her mouse-like mother. In some ways she had all the assertiveness of the supervisor himself.
“I will obey you in every way possible, father,” she said softly but firmly. “But I cannot pass Ralph on the street as though I did not know him. He is my friend. He has been kind to me. I could not treat him as you want me to.”
“Then, young lady, I’ll send you away where you will not be likely to cross his path. You are getting too bold and stubborn, anyway. Go in and pack your trunk. I’ll see your mother. You shall start this very day for your aunt’s at Selby Junction. Go into the house!”
He hustled her up the path toward the house as though she were a small child who had disobeyed him. Cherry was crying. As for Ralph, he had never before so wanted to hit a man and refrained from doing it!
“Discipline,” he growled, as he moved away. “That is what he calls it. He runs his household and his family just as he tries to run the division.
“Well, sir, unless I much miss my guess, he is going to fall down, and fall down badly, on both propositions. But poor Cherry! Wish I hadn’t walked this way. I got her in bad. And now he’ll send her away and I’ll probably never see her again,” he finished, with a sigh.