CHAPTER XVI.RECALLED AND DISMISSED.AFTER the unexpected honor shown him by the boys of the 50th, Myles, accompanied by Billings, went to the hotel, where they both enjoyed the luxury of a much-needed bath. When they were ready to dress, Billings, gazing ruefully at his soiled linen, called out to Myles:“I say, old man, haven’t you got a clean shirt to lend a fellow!”“Why, yes,” replied Myles, “of course I can lend you one, but—” here he held out the garment in question, and looked at it doubtfully—“don’t you think it will be a little large for you?”“Oh, that’s all right,” answered Billings, cheerfully. “I always like my things loose and roomy.”He certainly had what he liked in this case; for, when arrayed in the shirt and one of Myles’ standing collars, which was three sizes too large, there waslittle to be seen of him below the eyes that twinkled merrily over the edge of the encircling linen. When, thus enveloped, he appeared on the street, he was everywhere greeted with roars of laughter. It came to be considered a fine joke among his tall friends of the 50th to catch hold of this collar, pull it up, and, gazing down into it as if in search of him, to call out:“Hello, little one! Come up here a minute, I want to speak to you.”For answer Billings, making a telescope of his hands, and gazing vaguely upward, would shout back:“No, I guess not, thank you. It looks pretty cold up there in the clouds.”Within an hour after the arrival of the New York troops, Mountain Junction underwent a marvellous change. Its streets were quiet and orderly, its saloons closed, and a cordon of slowly pacing, gray-uniformed sentinels completely encircled the great area containing the property of the railroad company. The regiment was quartered in one of the roomy car-shops, and during the four days that it remained there not a man below the grade ofcaptain was permitted to stroll beyond the sentry line except under orders. The telegraph wires were repaired, and Colonel Pepper announced publicly that on and after that date passenger-trains, strongly guarded, would be run regularly both east and west from that point. The strikers were not to be molested, or interfered with in any way, unless they undertook to obstruct travel or destroy property, but they would do either of these things at their peril. He also gave notice that a train would leave Mountain Junction for New York that afternoon.In the meantime Myles had been so fully occupied with the stirring events of the day, that it was not until he and Billings were in the hotel together that he thought to ask the latter how long he intended remaining at Mountain Junction, and whether he brought any orders from the office for him.“Why, yes,” replied Billings, “that reminds me that I have a note for you from Mr. Haxall. My orders are to remain here as long as the regiment does, and to return with it. Here’s your note now.”Opening it Myles read:“Mr. Manning:“Upon receiving this note from Mr. Billings you will return to New York and report at this office immediately. Mr. Billings will furnish what money is needed to meet your current expenses. “Yours etc.,“J. Haxall,City Editor.”“That’s too bad,” said Billings, as Myles read this short but very decided communication aloud. “I thought you and I were to work together here as we did at New London. Well, it can’t mean anything, except that Joe has got some better job for you. It must be something important too. But of course you won’t think of starting before to-morrow?”“The note says ‘immediately,’” replied Myles.“Yes, I know; but even then it can’t mean that a fellow who has been through what you have to-day, and is all knocked up, should set off on the road again without a chance to pull himself together. Why, you can get a doctor’s certificate that you are not fit to travel, and won’t be for several days.”“A doctor’s certificate might satisfy Mr. Haxall, but it would not satisfy me,” replied Myles, with a faint smile. “I know that I am perfectly well able to travel, and that the ride to New York won’t hurt me any more than staying here.”Nothing that Billings could say had any effect upon this determination, and when, a few hours later, a train, guarded by a full company of the 50th, was made up for New York, Myles was among its passengers. A number of his new-found soldier friends crowded about him, full of regret at his departure, and urging him to remain with them at least for that night. To them Myles only answered that he was under orders as well as they, and must obey them.The train was ready to start. The conductor was shouting “All aboard!” and Billings was bidding his friend good-bye, when Myles suddenly exclaimed:“Oh, Billings, I owe the telegraph operator here fifty dollars. He loaned it to me yesterday, and since then I haven’t had a chance to see him. Will you find and thank him for me, and tell him I will write, and return the money as soon as I reach New York?”“All right!” shouted Billings, as he stepped from the moving train. “That and all other commissions executed by yours truly, at moderate charge.”The captain commanding the escort that accompanied the train came and sat down beside the young reporter. He was a quiet but determined-lookingfellow, as sun-browned and broad-shouldered as Myles himself. His intelligent conversation served to banish the anxious thoughts that on account of his unexpected recall were beginning to oppress the latter. Myles could not help contrasting his manner with the boastful swagger of Lieutenant Easter and the neat gray uniform worn by his present companion with the gorgeous plumage of the other. He interested the captain, whose name was Ellis, by describing the capture of the train on which he had ridden the day before, and the comical plight to which its escort had been reduced. When he told Captain Ellis that the assistant division superintendent had also been made a prisoner and carried off by the strikers the other said:“He must have escaped then, for I heard of him in his uncle’s office just before we started. The colonel was talking to the superintendent, and, as I went in for final instructions, I heard the latter say that his assistant had only just returned from a trip over the western division and that——”“The superintendent!” exclaimed Myles. “The division superintendent? Is he at Mountain Junction?”“Yes, he came in on a special a few minutesbefore we left and reported that no new damage had been done to the track.”This was startling information to Myles, for it recalled the fact, which he had utterly forgotten, that he still had the key of the safe.Supposing the superintendent should even now be asking for it and Ben should be obliged to confess that it was not in his possession. What would be the result? Of what might not poor Ben be suspected? He had not dreamed of such a complication as this. Why had he been such a fool as to insist upon having that key anyhow? After all, it was none of his business to try to guard the company’s property in that way. If they trusted Ben and he was unworthy, that was their own affair. Now what was to be done?So occupied was Myles with this train of thought that his companion asked him a question unheeded; and, thinking it had not been heard above the noise of the cars, he repeated it.“I beg your pardon,” said Myles, starting from his reverie, “did you speak?”“I only asked if you ever met the division superintendent?”“No, I never did. But I have got the key to hissafe, and was wondering how I could return it most quickly.”“That is curious,” said the captain. “Was it intrusted to your keeping for fear lest the strikers might get hold of it?”“Yes—that is, not exactly. It was intrusted to my keeping, but not wholly on account of the strikers,” replied Myles, with some confusion. “You see, I can’t tell you how it came into my possession without breaking a promise, but if it is not returned at once I am afraid trouble will result.”“Does not the division superintendent know that you have it?” asked the captain, with an air of surprise.“No; that’s just it; and I wouldn’t have him know it if it could be helped.”The captain was more than ever puzzled by this, but was far too polite to give utterance to his thoughts.“You might return it by express,” he suggested.“So I might,” said Myles, brightening at the thought. “Yes, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll send it back by express from the first station.”With this he drew the troublesome key from hispocket, where it had remained for two days unthought of, and the captain gazed at it curiously. They hunted up some brown wrapping-paper and did the key up in a package that was left with the express agent at the next station. It was directed to the Assistant Superintendent, Western Division, A. & B. R. R., and the charges on it were paid.“There is no danger but that it will get there all right?” asked Myles, anxiously, of the agent.“Oh, no,” was the reply. “Thanks to these gentlemen,” nodding to the gray-uniformed soldiers outside, “trains are running pretty regularly now. Our matter goes through all right, anyhow, whenever there is any thing to carry it, for the strikers haven’t any fight with the express company. They only stop freight and passengers.”So having satisfied himself that he had done the best thing under the circumstances, Myles returned to the train and dismissed the matter from his mind.Captain Ellis, with his command, left the train at the eastern end of the Central Division, where they were to remain until the following day, and then return to Mountain Junction. It was quite late at night when Myles bade these friends good-bye.Soon afterward he arranged himself as comfortably as possible in the car seat and fell asleep. When he next awoke his train was nearing New York and a boy was calling the morning papers close beside him.Myles bought aPhonograph, curious to read the news of the great strike; for, though he was so well acquainted with what had taken place at and near Mountain Junction, it was four days since he had seen a daily paper, and he knew nothing of occurrences in other parts of the country. What was the heading of the first column on the first page? Was he reading it rightly? He went over it again slowly. Yes, there was no mistake. The heading was as plain as type could make it, and it was: “The Great Railroad Strike. Arrival of the 50th Regiment, N. G. S. N. Y. at Mountain Junction. Thrilling Details of their Trip. Daring Deed of aPhonographReporter. A Terrible Disaster Averted by his Ready Wit and Prompt Action. The Regiment Appreciates his Service.”What could it all mean? Could these flattering words refer to him and what he had done? Yes, they could and did. As he read down the longcolumn he found his own name mentioned more than once. There was a full, though perhaps slightly exaggerated, account of his ride, the wreck of his hand-car, the stopping of the train in consequence just in time, and the subsequent scene at Mountain Junction.How fine it all looked in print! How much more daring and splendid the whole affair seemed now than it had twenty-four hours before, when he, stunned and bruised, was being told that he deserved to be hanged!“Good for you, Billings, old man! Wait till I get a chance to tell the public what a splendid fellow you are, and what fine fellows all we reporters are any way. Perhaps we won’t be sneered at now so much as we have been.”Thus thinking, and filled with a very pardonable pride, Myles read and re-read the story. As the train rolled into the station and he stepped from it he wondered if people would stare at him and point him out to each other. He wished he could meet some acquaintance who would call him by name; for, of course, everybody had read the account of his doings and would recognizetheMyles Manningat once. How strange that people should be going about their every-day business as if it were the one thing in the world of importance, and great events, worthy of record in the newspapers, were not happening! How commonplace and trivial the things that interested them seemed to him now, in the light of what had so recently taken place!His first plan was to go directly to thePhonographoffice. No, it was too early. Nobody would be there yet. Then he thought he would go to his room, get a change of clothing, and make himself presentable. Would it not be more effective, though, to appear in the office still bearing signs of his late experience? Myles thought it would. He would first get breakfast at a restaurant and then decide what to do next.By the way, supposing they should see the paper at home? Of course they would, or had by this time. He had subscribed for it and ordered it sent to them when he first became a reporter. What a state of mind they would be in! He ought to telegraph them at once. Acting upon this impulse he stopped at the first telegraph station and sent the following dispatch to his mother:“Do not be anxious. Am safe. Will be out to-night.“Myles.”There, that would allay their anxiety, and it was neatly done in just ten words. He wrote “Will be out to-night” because it was Saturday, and he meant to spend the following day at home.Now for breakfast. In the restaurant an intelligent-looking gentleman sat on the opposite side of his table. He had no morning paper, and Myles offered him thePhonograph, anxious to see what effect that first-column story would have upon him. The gentleman thanked him politely, took the paper, glanced carelessly through it, and returned it without comment.“Exciting story of the strike, isn’t?” ventured Myles.“Didn’t notice it,” answered the other. “I’m tired of all these strikes, and never waste time reading about them. Life’s too short.”Myles replied: “Yes, that is so.” But he thought: “What a stupid fellow!”After all he reached thePhonographoffice before any of the other reporters. Mr. Haxall sat in the great room alone. He glanced up from his papers as Myles entered and said:“Ah, Mr. Manning, that you? Step here a moment, please.”“Now for a real triumph,” thought Myles. “He must say something in praise for what I have done.”“You have been absent from this office for five days at Mountain Junction, I believe,” said Mr. Haxall.“Yes, sir.”“And in that time we have received but one dispatch from you?”“Well, sir, I can explain—” began Myles, eagerly.“Perhaps this is a sufficient explanation,” interrupted Mr. Haxall, handing him a telegram.It was: “Your reporter at Mountain Junction too drunk to send any news to-night. Better replace him with a sober man.” And the telegram was dated five days before.Myles felt as though some one had struck him a blow full in the face.“But, Mr. Haxall—” he began.“This office can accept no excuse for such a neglect of duty as that, Mr. Manning,” said the city editor. “I am very sorry, but I am obliged to ask you to please hand the key of your desk to Mr. Brown.”
CHAPTER XVI.RECALLED AND DISMISSED.AFTER the unexpected honor shown him by the boys of the 50th, Myles, accompanied by Billings, went to the hotel, where they both enjoyed the luxury of a much-needed bath. When they were ready to dress, Billings, gazing ruefully at his soiled linen, called out to Myles:“I say, old man, haven’t you got a clean shirt to lend a fellow!”“Why, yes,” replied Myles, “of course I can lend you one, but—” here he held out the garment in question, and looked at it doubtfully—“don’t you think it will be a little large for you?”“Oh, that’s all right,” answered Billings, cheerfully. “I always like my things loose and roomy.”He certainly had what he liked in this case; for, when arrayed in the shirt and one of Myles’ standing collars, which was three sizes too large, there waslittle to be seen of him below the eyes that twinkled merrily over the edge of the encircling linen. When, thus enveloped, he appeared on the street, he was everywhere greeted with roars of laughter. It came to be considered a fine joke among his tall friends of the 50th to catch hold of this collar, pull it up, and, gazing down into it as if in search of him, to call out:“Hello, little one! Come up here a minute, I want to speak to you.”For answer Billings, making a telescope of his hands, and gazing vaguely upward, would shout back:“No, I guess not, thank you. It looks pretty cold up there in the clouds.”Within an hour after the arrival of the New York troops, Mountain Junction underwent a marvellous change. Its streets were quiet and orderly, its saloons closed, and a cordon of slowly pacing, gray-uniformed sentinels completely encircled the great area containing the property of the railroad company. The regiment was quartered in one of the roomy car-shops, and during the four days that it remained there not a man below the grade ofcaptain was permitted to stroll beyond the sentry line except under orders. The telegraph wires were repaired, and Colonel Pepper announced publicly that on and after that date passenger-trains, strongly guarded, would be run regularly both east and west from that point. The strikers were not to be molested, or interfered with in any way, unless they undertook to obstruct travel or destroy property, but they would do either of these things at their peril. He also gave notice that a train would leave Mountain Junction for New York that afternoon.In the meantime Myles had been so fully occupied with the stirring events of the day, that it was not until he and Billings were in the hotel together that he thought to ask the latter how long he intended remaining at Mountain Junction, and whether he brought any orders from the office for him.“Why, yes,” replied Billings, “that reminds me that I have a note for you from Mr. Haxall. My orders are to remain here as long as the regiment does, and to return with it. Here’s your note now.”Opening it Myles read:“Mr. Manning:“Upon receiving this note from Mr. Billings you will return to New York and report at this office immediately. Mr. Billings will furnish what money is needed to meet your current expenses. “Yours etc.,“J. Haxall,City Editor.”“That’s too bad,” said Billings, as Myles read this short but very decided communication aloud. “I thought you and I were to work together here as we did at New London. Well, it can’t mean anything, except that Joe has got some better job for you. It must be something important too. But of course you won’t think of starting before to-morrow?”“The note says ‘immediately,’” replied Myles.“Yes, I know; but even then it can’t mean that a fellow who has been through what you have to-day, and is all knocked up, should set off on the road again without a chance to pull himself together. Why, you can get a doctor’s certificate that you are not fit to travel, and won’t be for several days.”“A doctor’s certificate might satisfy Mr. Haxall, but it would not satisfy me,” replied Myles, with a faint smile. “I know that I am perfectly well able to travel, and that the ride to New York won’t hurt me any more than staying here.”Nothing that Billings could say had any effect upon this determination, and when, a few hours later, a train, guarded by a full company of the 50th, was made up for New York, Myles was among its passengers. A number of his new-found soldier friends crowded about him, full of regret at his departure, and urging him to remain with them at least for that night. To them Myles only answered that he was under orders as well as they, and must obey them.The train was ready to start. The conductor was shouting “All aboard!” and Billings was bidding his friend good-bye, when Myles suddenly exclaimed:“Oh, Billings, I owe the telegraph operator here fifty dollars. He loaned it to me yesterday, and since then I haven’t had a chance to see him. Will you find and thank him for me, and tell him I will write, and return the money as soon as I reach New York?”“All right!” shouted Billings, as he stepped from the moving train. “That and all other commissions executed by yours truly, at moderate charge.”The captain commanding the escort that accompanied the train came and sat down beside the young reporter. He was a quiet but determined-lookingfellow, as sun-browned and broad-shouldered as Myles himself. His intelligent conversation served to banish the anxious thoughts that on account of his unexpected recall were beginning to oppress the latter. Myles could not help contrasting his manner with the boastful swagger of Lieutenant Easter and the neat gray uniform worn by his present companion with the gorgeous plumage of the other. He interested the captain, whose name was Ellis, by describing the capture of the train on which he had ridden the day before, and the comical plight to which its escort had been reduced. When he told Captain Ellis that the assistant division superintendent had also been made a prisoner and carried off by the strikers the other said:“He must have escaped then, for I heard of him in his uncle’s office just before we started. The colonel was talking to the superintendent, and, as I went in for final instructions, I heard the latter say that his assistant had only just returned from a trip over the western division and that——”“The superintendent!” exclaimed Myles. “The division superintendent? Is he at Mountain Junction?”“Yes, he came in on a special a few minutesbefore we left and reported that no new damage had been done to the track.”This was startling information to Myles, for it recalled the fact, which he had utterly forgotten, that he still had the key of the safe.Supposing the superintendent should even now be asking for it and Ben should be obliged to confess that it was not in his possession. What would be the result? Of what might not poor Ben be suspected? He had not dreamed of such a complication as this. Why had he been such a fool as to insist upon having that key anyhow? After all, it was none of his business to try to guard the company’s property in that way. If they trusted Ben and he was unworthy, that was their own affair. Now what was to be done?So occupied was Myles with this train of thought that his companion asked him a question unheeded; and, thinking it had not been heard above the noise of the cars, he repeated it.“I beg your pardon,” said Myles, starting from his reverie, “did you speak?”“I only asked if you ever met the division superintendent?”“No, I never did. But I have got the key to hissafe, and was wondering how I could return it most quickly.”“That is curious,” said the captain. “Was it intrusted to your keeping for fear lest the strikers might get hold of it?”“Yes—that is, not exactly. It was intrusted to my keeping, but not wholly on account of the strikers,” replied Myles, with some confusion. “You see, I can’t tell you how it came into my possession without breaking a promise, but if it is not returned at once I am afraid trouble will result.”“Does not the division superintendent know that you have it?” asked the captain, with an air of surprise.“No; that’s just it; and I wouldn’t have him know it if it could be helped.”The captain was more than ever puzzled by this, but was far too polite to give utterance to his thoughts.“You might return it by express,” he suggested.“So I might,” said Myles, brightening at the thought. “Yes, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll send it back by express from the first station.”With this he drew the troublesome key from hispocket, where it had remained for two days unthought of, and the captain gazed at it curiously. They hunted up some brown wrapping-paper and did the key up in a package that was left with the express agent at the next station. It was directed to the Assistant Superintendent, Western Division, A. & B. R. R., and the charges on it were paid.“There is no danger but that it will get there all right?” asked Myles, anxiously, of the agent.“Oh, no,” was the reply. “Thanks to these gentlemen,” nodding to the gray-uniformed soldiers outside, “trains are running pretty regularly now. Our matter goes through all right, anyhow, whenever there is any thing to carry it, for the strikers haven’t any fight with the express company. They only stop freight and passengers.”So having satisfied himself that he had done the best thing under the circumstances, Myles returned to the train and dismissed the matter from his mind.Captain Ellis, with his command, left the train at the eastern end of the Central Division, where they were to remain until the following day, and then return to Mountain Junction. It was quite late at night when Myles bade these friends good-bye.Soon afterward he arranged himself as comfortably as possible in the car seat and fell asleep. When he next awoke his train was nearing New York and a boy was calling the morning papers close beside him.Myles bought aPhonograph, curious to read the news of the great strike; for, though he was so well acquainted with what had taken place at and near Mountain Junction, it was four days since he had seen a daily paper, and he knew nothing of occurrences in other parts of the country. What was the heading of the first column on the first page? Was he reading it rightly? He went over it again slowly. Yes, there was no mistake. The heading was as plain as type could make it, and it was: “The Great Railroad Strike. Arrival of the 50th Regiment, N. G. S. N. Y. at Mountain Junction. Thrilling Details of their Trip. Daring Deed of aPhonographReporter. A Terrible Disaster Averted by his Ready Wit and Prompt Action. The Regiment Appreciates his Service.”What could it all mean? Could these flattering words refer to him and what he had done? Yes, they could and did. As he read down the longcolumn he found his own name mentioned more than once. There was a full, though perhaps slightly exaggerated, account of his ride, the wreck of his hand-car, the stopping of the train in consequence just in time, and the subsequent scene at Mountain Junction.How fine it all looked in print! How much more daring and splendid the whole affair seemed now than it had twenty-four hours before, when he, stunned and bruised, was being told that he deserved to be hanged!“Good for you, Billings, old man! Wait till I get a chance to tell the public what a splendid fellow you are, and what fine fellows all we reporters are any way. Perhaps we won’t be sneered at now so much as we have been.”Thus thinking, and filled with a very pardonable pride, Myles read and re-read the story. As the train rolled into the station and he stepped from it he wondered if people would stare at him and point him out to each other. He wished he could meet some acquaintance who would call him by name; for, of course, everybody had read the account of his doings and would recognizetheMyles Manningat once. How strange that people should be going about their every-day business as if it were the one thing in the world of importance, and great events, worthy of record in the newspapers, were not happening! How commonplace and trivial the things that interested them seemed to him now, in the light of what had so recently taken place!His first plan was to go directly to thePhonographoffice. No, it was too early. Nobody would be there yet. Then he thought he would go to his room, get a change of clothing, and make himself presentable. Would it not be more effective, though, to appear in the office still bearing signs of his late experience? Myles thought it would. He would first get breakfast at a restaurant and then decide what to do next.By the way, supposing they should see the paper at home? Of course they would, or had by this time. He had subscribed for it and ordered it sent to them when he first became a reporter. What a state of mind they would be in! He ought to telegraph them at once. Acting upon this impulse he stopped at the first telegraph station and sent the following dispatch to his mother:“Do not be anxious. Am safe. Will be out to-night.“Myles.”There, that would allay their anxiety, and it was neatly done in just ten words. He wrote “Will be out to-night” because it was Saturday, and he meant to spend the following day at home.Now for breakfast. In the restaurant an intelligent-looking gentleman sat on the opposite side of his table. He had no morning paper, and Myles offered him thePhonograph, anxious to see what effect that first-column story would have upon him. The gentleman thanked him politely, took the paper, glanced carelessly through it, and returned it without comment.“Exciting story of the strike, isn’t?” ventured Myles.“Didn’t notice it,” answered the other. “I’m tired of all these strikes, and never waste time reading about them. Life’s too short.”Myles replied: “Yes, that is so.” But he thought: “What a stupid fellow!”After all he reached thePhonographoffice before any of the other reporters. Mr. Haxall sat in the great room alone. He glanced up from his papers as Myles entered and said:“Ah, Mr. Manning, that you? Step here a moment, please.”“Now for a real triumph,” thought Myles. “He must say something in praise for what I have done.”“You have been absent from this office for five days at Mountain Junction, I believe,” said Mr. Haxall.“Yes, sir.”“And in that time we have received but one dispatch from you?”“Well, sir, I can explain—” began Myles, eagerly.“Perhaps this is a sufficient explanation,” interrupted Mr. Haxall, handing him a telegram.It was: “Your reporter at Mountain Junction too drunk to send any news to-night. Better replace him with a sober man.” And the telegram was dated five days before.Myles felt as though some one had struck him a blow full in the face.“But, Mr. Haxall—” he began.“This office can accept no excuse for such a neglect of duty as that, Mr. Manning,” said the city editor. “I am very sorry, but I am obliged to ask you to please hand the key of your desk to Mr. Brown.”
RECALLED AND DISMISSED.
AFTER the unexpected honor shown him by the boys of the 50th, Myles, accompanied by Billings, went to the hotel, where they both enjoyed the luxury of a much-needed bath. When they were ready to dress, Billings, gazing ruefully at his soiled linen, called out to Myles:
“I say, old man, haven’t you got a clean shirt to lend a fellow!”
“Why, yes,” replied Myles, “of course I can lend you one, but—” here he held out the garment in question, and looked at it doubtfully—“don’t you think it will be a little large for you?”
“Oh, that’s all right,” answered Billings, cheerfully. “I always like my things loose and roomy.”
He certainly had what he liked in this case; for, when arrayed in the shirt and one of Myles’ standing collars, which was three sizes too large, there waslittle to be seen of him below the eyes that twinkled merrily over the edge of the encircling linen. When, thus enveloped, he appeared on the street, he was everywhere greeted with roars of laughter. It came to be considered a fine joke among his tall friends of the 50th to catch hold of this collar, pull it up, and, gazing down into it as if in search of him, to call out:
“Hello, little one! Come up here a minute, I want to speak to you.”
For answer Billings, making a telescope of his hands, and gazing vaguely upward, would shout back:
“No, I guess not, thank you. It looks pretty cold up there in the clouds.”
Within an hour after the arrival of the New York troops, Mountain Junction underwent a marvellous change. Its streets were quiet and orderly, its saloons closed, and a cordon of slowly pacing, gray-uniformed sentinels completely encircled the great area containing the property of the railroad company. The regiment was quartered in one of the roomy car-shops, and during the four days that it remained there not a man below the grade ofcaptain was permitted to stroll beyond the sentry line except under orders. The telegraph wires were repaired, and Colonel Pepper announced publicly that on and after that date passenger-trains, strongly guarded, would be run regularly both east and west from that point. The strikers were not to be molested, or interfered with in any way, unless they undertook to obstruct travel or destroy property, but they would do either of these things at their peril. He also gave notice that a train would leave Mountain Junction for New York that afternoon.
In the meantime Myles had been so fully occupied with the stirring events of the day, that it was not until he and Billings were in the hotel together that he thought to ask the latter how long he intended remaining at Mountain Junction, and whether he brought any orders from the office for him.
“Why, yes,” replied Billings, “that reminds me that I have a note for you from Mr. Haxall. My orders are to remain here as long as the regiment does, and to return with it. Here’s your note now.”
Opening it Myles read:
“Mr. Manning:“Upon receiving this note from Mr. Billings you will return to New York and report at this office immediately. Mr. Billings will furnish what money is needed to meet your current expenses. “Yours etc.,“J. Haxall,City Editor.”
“Mr. Manning:
“Upon receiving this note from Mr. Billings you will return to New York and report at this office immediately. Mr. Billings will furnish what money is needed to meet your current expenses. “Yours etc.,
“J. Haxall,City Editor.”
“That’s too bad,” said Billings, as Myles read this short but very decided communication aloud. “I thought you and I were to work together here as we did at New London. Well, it can’t mean anything, except that Joe has got some better job for you. It must be something important too. But of course you won’t think of starting before to-morrow?”
“The note says ‘immediately,’” replied Myles.
“Yes, I know; but even then it can’t mean that a fellow who has been through what you have to-day, and is all knocked up, should set off on the road again without a chance to pull himself together. Why, you can get a doctor’s certificate that you are not fit to travel, and won’t be for several days.”
“A doctor’s certificate might satisfy Mr. Haxall, but it would not satisfy me,” replied Myles, with a faint smile. “I know that I am perfectly well able to travel, and that the ride to New York won’t hurt me any more than staying here.”
Nothing that Billings could say had any effect upon this determination, and when, a few hours later, a train, guarded by a full company of the 50th, was made up for New York, Myles was among its passengers. A number of his new-found soldier friends crowded about him, full of regret at his departure, and urging him to remain with them at least for that night. To them Myles only answered that he was under orders as well as they, and must obey them.
The train was ready to start. The conductor was shouting “All aboard!” and Billings was bidding his friend good-bye, when Myles suddenly exclaimed:
“Oh, Billings, I owe the telegraph operator here fifty dollars. He loaned it to me yesterday, and since then I haven’t had a chance to see him. Will you find and thank him for me, and tell him I will write, and return the money as soon as I reach New York?”
“All right!” shouted Billings, as he stepped from the moving train. “That and all other commissions executed by yours truly, at moderate charge.”
The captain commanding the escort that accompanied the train came and sat down beside the young reporter. He was a quiet but determined-lookingfellow, as sun-browned and broad-shouldered as Myles himself. His intelligent conversation served to banish the anxious thoughts that on account of his unexpected recall were beginning to oppress the latter. Myles could not help contrasting his manner with the boastful swagger of Lieutenant Easter and the neat gray uniform worn by his present companion with the gorgeous plumage of the other. He interested the captain, whose name was Ellis, by describing the capture of the train on which he had ridden the day before, and the comical plight to which its escort had been reduced. When he told Captain Ellis that the assistant division superintendent had also been made a prisoner and carried off by the strikers the other said:
“He must have escaped then, for I heard of him in his uncle’s office just before we started. The colonel was talking to the superintendent, and, as I went in for final instructions, I heard the latter say that his assistant had only just returned from a trip over the western division and that——”
“The superintendent!” exclaimed Myles. “The division superintendent? Is he at Mountain Junction?”
“Yes, he came in on a special a few minutesbefore we left and reported that no new damage had been done to the track.”
This was startling information to Myles, for it recalled the fact, which he had utterly forgotten, that he still had the key of the safe.
Supposing the superintendent should even now be asking for it and Ben should be obliged to confess that it was not in his possession. What would be the result? Of what might not poor Ben be suspected? He had not dreamed of such a complication as this. Why had he been such a fool as to insist upon having that key anyhow? After all, it was none of his business to try to guard the company’s property in that way. If they trusted Ben and he was unworthy, that was their own affair. Now what was to be done?
So occupied was Myles with this train of thought that his companion asked him a question unheeded; and, thinking it had not been heard above the noise of the cars, he repeated it.
“I beg your pardon,” said Myles, starting from his reverie, “did you speak?”
“I only asked if you ever met the division superintendent?”
“No, I never did. But I have got the key to hissafe, and was wondering how I could return it most quickly.”
“That is curious,” said the captain. “Was it intrusted to your keeping for fear lest the strikers might get hold of it?”
“Yes—that is, not exactly. It was intrusted to my keeping, but not wholly on account of the strikers,” replied Myles, with some confusion. “You see, I can’t tell you how it came into my possession without breaking a promise, but if it is not returned at once I am afraid trouble will result.”
“Does not the division superintendent know that you have it?” asked the captain, with an air of surprise.
“No; that’s just it; and I wouldn’t have him know it if it could be helped.”
The captain was more than ever puzzled by this, but was far too polite to give utterance to his thoughts.
“You might return it by express,” he suggested.
“So I might,” said Myles, brightening at the thought. “Yes, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll send it back by express from the first station.”
With this he drew the troublesome key from hispocket, where it had remained for two days unthought of, and the captain gazed at it curiously. They hunted up some brown wrapping-paper and did the key up in a package that was left with the express agent at the next station. It was directed to the Assistant Superintendent, Western Division, A. & B. R. R., and the charges on it were paid.
“There is no danger but that it will get there all right?” asked Myles, anxiously, of the agent.
“Oh, no,” was the reply. “Thanks to these gentlemen,” nodding to the gray-uniformed soldiers outside, “trains are running pretty regularly now. Our matter goes through all right, anyhow, whenever there is any thing to carry it, for the strikers haven’t any fight with the express company. They only stop freight and passengers.”
So having satisfied himself that he had done the best thing under the circumstances, Myles returned to the train and dismissed the matter from his mind.
Captain Ellis, with his command, left the train at the eastern end of the Central Division, where they were to remain until the following day, and then return to Mountain Junction. It was quite late at night when Myles bade these friends good-bye.Soon afterward he arranged himself as comfortably as possible in the car seat and fell asleep. When he next awoke his train was nearing New York and a boy was calling the morning papers close beside him.
Myles bought aPhonograph, curious to read the news of the great strike; for, though he was so well acquainted with what had taken place at and near Mountain Junction, it was four days since he had seen a daily paper, and he knew nothing of occurrences in other parts of the country. What was the heading of the first column on the first page? Was he reading it rightly? He went over it again slowly. Yes, there was no mistake. The heading was as plain as type could make it, and it was: “The Great Railroad Strike. Arrival of the 50th Regiment, N. G. S. N. Y. at Mountain Junction. Thrilling Details of their Trip. Daring Deed of aPhonographReporter. A Terrible Disaster Averted by his Ready Wit and Prompt Action. The Regiment Appreciates his Service.”
What could it all mean? Could these flattering words refer to him and what he had done? Yes, they could and did. As he read down the longcolumn he found his own name mentioned more than once. There was a full, though perhaps slightly exaggerated, account of his ride, the wreck of his hand-car, the stopping of the train in consequence just in time, and the subsequent scene at Mountain Junction.
How fine it all looked in print! How much more daring and splendid the whole affair seemed now than it had twenty-four hours before, when he, stunned and bruised, was being told that he deserved to be hanged!
“Good for you, Billings, old man! Wait till I get a chance to tell the public what a splendid fellow you are, and what fine fellows all we reporters are any way. Perhaps we won’t be sneered at now so much as we have been.”
Thus thinking, and filled with a very pardonable pride, Myles read and re-read the story. As the train rolled into the station and he stepped from it he wondered if people would stare at him and point him out to each other. He wished he could meet some acquaintance who would call him by name; for, of course, everybody had read the account of his doings and would recognizetheMyles Manningat once. How strange that people should be going about their every-day business as if it were the one thing in the world of importance, and great events, worthy of record in the newspapers, were not happening! How commonplace and trivial the things that interested them seemed to him now, in the light of what had so recently taken place!
His first plan was to go directly to thePhonographoffice. No, it was too early. Nobody would be there yet. Then he thought he would go to his room, get a change of clothing, and make himself presentable. Would it not be more effective, though, to appear in the office still bearing signs of his late experience? Myles thought it would. He would first get breakfast at a restaurant and then decide what to do next.
By the way, supposing they should see the paper at home? Of course they would, or had by this time. He had subscribed for it and ordered it sent to them when he first became a reporter. What a state of mind they would be in! He ought to telegraph them at once. Acting upon this impulse he stopped at the first telegraph station and sent the following dispatch to his mother:
“Do not be anxious. Am safe. Will be out to-night.“Myles.”
“Do not be anxious. Am safe. Will be out to-night.
“Myles.”
There, that would allay their anxiety, and it was neatly done in just ten words. He wrote “Will be out to-night” because it was Saturday, and he meant to spend the following day at home.
Now for breakfast. In the restaurant an intelligent-looking gentleman sat on the opposite side of his table. He had no morning paper, and Myles offered him thePhonograph, anxious to see what effect that first-column story would have upon him. The gentleman thanked him politely, took the paper, glanced carelessly through it, and returned it without comment.
“Exciting story of the strike, isn’t?” ventured Myles.
“Didn’t notice it,” answered the other. “I’m tired of all these strikes, and never waste time reading about them. Life’s too short.”
Myles replied: “Yes, that is so.” But he thought: “What a stupid fellow!”
After all he reached thePhonographoffice before any of the other reporters. Mr. Haxall sat in the great room alone. He glanced up from his papers as Myles entered and said:
“Ah, Mr. Manning, that you? Step here a moment, please.”
“Now for a real triumph,” thought Myles. “He must say something in praise for what I have done.”
“You have been absent from this office for five days at Mountain Junction, I believe,” said Mr. Haxall.
“Yes, sir.”
“And in that time we have received but one dispatch from you?”
“Well, sir, I can explain—” began Myles, eagerly.
“Perhaps this is a sufficient explanation,” interrupted Mr. Haxall, handing him a telegram.
It was: “Your reporter at Mountain Junction too drunk to send any news to-night. Better replace him with a sober man.” And the telegram was dated five days before.
Myles felt as though some one had struck him a blow full in the face.
“But, Mr. Haxall—” he began.
“This office can accept no excuse for such a neglect of duty as that, Mr. Manning,” said the city editor. “I am very sorry, but I am obliged to ask you to please hand the key of your desk to Mr. Brown.”