MAKING A SCHEDULE
"You understand me, Fairbanks?"
"Perfectly, Mr. Drake."
"You have helped us out of trouble before this and I believe you can be
of inestimable service in the present instance. We are sorry to lose a
first-class engineer, but we need you somewhere else, and need you
badly."
They were seated in the private office of the superintendent of the
Great Northern, that august official and the young engineer of the
Overland Express, and a long, earnest and serious colloquy had just
ended.
"From what I have told you and from what you have personally discovered,
it is more than apparent that a plot is on foot among our train
dispatchers to cripple the running time of the road for the benefit of
the opposition."
"There is little doubt of that, I think," said Ralph.
"There is a leak somewhere, and it must be stopped."
"It is my opinion that investigations should begin at the fountain
head," submitted Ralph.
"That is just where we shall begin. It may be a hard, even a dangerous
task. We look to you, Fairbanks, for results."
It was the third day after Ralph's adventure in the tunnel. Not much had
happened of active importance during that time. Ralph had met the
superintendent on three different occasions. The present one was a
definite culmination of a series.
The young railroader felt very much pleased at the confidence placed in
him by the railroad head. It stirred his pride because it had all come
about naturally. The superintendent had told him that after a little
preliminary work he was to be made chief dispatcher of the Western
division of the road. It was a grand promotion, both in importance and
salary, enough to satisfy the most ambitious person working for a rapid
rise.
Ralph had been sent to the home of the paymaster by the superintendent,
and there was a colloquy there. Bob Adair, the road detective, was
called in from the other end of the line, and Ralph told him the story
of Glen Palmer and his grandfather, leaving the officer to work out
himself whatever mystery might surround the two.
In plain words, somebody was tampering with the train dispatching
service of the road. Some one on the inside was giving out important
information. Cross orders had gone over the wires in a mysterious way
and could not be traced. There had been two bad freight wrecks, and
twice the Overland Express had been caught in a tangle brought about by
vague contradictory orders and had come in many hours late.
As to those who were suspected of being responsible for this state of
affairs Ralph was apprized in his talks with the superintendent. The
plans to trap them and fasten the proofs of conspiracy upon them were
all outlined to the young railroader. Ralph had blocked out just what he
was expected to do, but that day as he was led to the office of the
train dispatcher by the superintendent he knew that he had no easy task
before him.
Glidden was in charge as they came into the place. The two trick men
under him and the copy operators were busy at their tables. Mounted on a
roll in front of Glidden was the current official time card of the
division. From the information contained thereon he had evidently just
finished his calculation for time orders, meeting points and work
trains.
"Good morning, Glidden," said the superintendent. "I spoke to you
yesterday about our friend, Fairbanks here."
The gruff dispatcher nodded brusquely. He liked Ralph and the latter
knew it. Ralph also knew that Glidden was one of the "true blues" of the
office.
"His arm is not strong enough to pull a lever, but he's in shape to
tackle a key, and knows how to do it."
"Glad," vouchsafed Glidden tersely.
"All right. Set him at work."
"Come on," said Glidden, and he opened the little office gate and Ralph
stood within the charmed precincts of the train dispatching circle.
"You've had some experience, I understand," resumed Glidden, after some
bustling about. "I suppose you know what an O. S. report is?"
"The one sent in by operators of the various stations as trains arrive
and depart."
"Exactly, and the 'Consists'?"
"The conductors' messages giving the exact composition and destination
of every car in the train."
"You'll do," nodded Glidden. "Now, then, I have an inkling you and I are
booked for something special at the relay station to-night, so you
needn't work yourself out. Just for practice, though, and to prove how
smart you are, show the kind of stuff you are made of by tackling that."
Glidden threw down a train sheet before Ralph, and following it a copied
telegram. Then he strode away, with the words:
"Make out a schedule for this special, giving her a clean sweep from end
to end with the exception of No. 8."
"Very well, Mr. Glidden," said Ralph quietly. "How soon do you want it?"
"Take your time," was the short reply, while a chuckle sounded deep down
in the throat of the dispatcher.
Ralph set his lips grimly. He realized that for a green hand he had been
given an arduous task. He knew much about the service, however, and had
not watched, studied and absorbed during the past two days for nothing.
He was fully determined that this special should have "a run for her
money." If she ran on his schedule, no train load was going away with
the idea that the Great Northern was not the swiftest road of the bunch
if he could help it, and Ralph had a big idea that he could.
Glidden sent over a copy operator, a young fellow who agreed to do the
copying while Ralph made the schedule. There was a whimsical twinkle in
his eye, but Ralph dauntlessly started in at his work.
The special in question was to be whooped through that afternoon, the
run was one hundred and two miles, with plenty of sidings and passing
tracks, and besides, old Dan Lacey, with engine No. 86, was on, so he
could be sure of a run that was a hummer.
The superintendent came into the office for a moment to see what Ralph
was at, and said carelessly:
"Tear things loose, Fairbanks. There's a Congressional Railroad
Committee aboard of that special. Make 'em all car sick."
Ralph took the train sheet and familiarized himself with its every
detail. Down its centre was printed the names of all the stations on the
division and the distances between them. On either side of the main
column were ruled smaller columns, each one of which represented a
train. The number of each train was at the head of the appropriate
column, and under it the names of the conductor and engineer and the
number of loads and empties on the train.
All trains on the division were arranged in three classes, and as Ralph
knew had certain rights. Trains of the first class were passengers. The
through freight and combination freight and passenger made up the second
class. All other trains, such as local freights, work trains and
construction trains, composed the third class.
Ralph began his calculating on the basis of the invariable rule in force
on all railroads, that trains running one way have the exclusive right
over trains of their own and inferior classes running in the opposite
direction. Ralph began his work by framing up the initial order:
"Order number 29
To G. N. E.--all trains
G. N. R. R. (Western Division)
Dispatcher's office
D. S.
Special east engine No. 86 will run from Rockton to Dover,
having right of track over all trains except No. 8 on the
following schedule:
Leave Rockton 3:12 P. M.
There Ralph paused.
"Stuck," insinuated his copy operator with a grin.
"No, only thinking," declared Ralph.
Here was where the figuring came in, along with the knowledge of the
road, grades and the like, in which Ralph was by no means lacking, for
he knew familiarly nearly every foot of the way out of Rockton. He
studied and used up lots of gray matter and even chewed up a pencil or
two. Ralph read his schedule carefully and handed it to the second trick
operator. The latter knitted his brows for a moment and then slowly
said:
"For a beginner that's the best schedule I ever saw."
"Thank you," bowed Ralph modestly.
"It's a hummer, without a doubt. To prevent the lives of the
Congressional Committee being placed in peril, though, I think you had
better make another."
"Think so?" questioned Ralph blankly.
"You see," went on the operator solemnly, "you have only allowed seven
minutes between Lisle and Hull, while the time card shows the distance
to be six miles. Dan Lacey and his engine 86 are capable of great bursts
of speed, but they can't fly. Then there's the through. She's an hour
late from the south today. What are you going to do about her. Pass them
on one track, I suppose?"
"He's guying you, Fairbanks," spoke a gruff but pleased voice at Ralph's
shoulder. "Lacey can make the spurt without a quiver, and as you
probably noticed the late through is cancelled for transfer at
Blakeville. You'll do."
Ralph picked up a good deal of general information that day. He
perfected himself in the double-order system. This covered the giving of
an order to all trains concerned at the same time. A case came up where
the dispatcher desired to make a meeting point for two trains. The order
was sent simultaneously to both of them. Ralph had a case in point where
a train was leaving his end of the division and wherein it was necessary
to make a meeting point with a train coming in. Before giving his order
to his conductor and engineer he telegraphed to a station at which the
incoming train would soon arrive. From there the operator repeated the
message back word for word, giving a signal that his red board was
turned. By this means both trains received the same order and there
would be no doubt about the point at which they were to meet.
Time orders, slow orders, extra orders, annulment orders, clearance
orders--Ralph found that any one gifted with a reasonable amount of
common sense and having practical knowledge of the rudiments of
mathematics could do the work successfully. Beneath all the simplicity
of the system, however, the young railroader realized that there ran a
deep undercurrent of complications that only long time and a cool head
could master.
All of a sudden sometimes some train out on the road that had been
running all right would bob up with a hot box or a broken draw head, and
then all the calculations for a new train would be knocked awry.
About four o'clock in the afternoon the superintendent came into the
office and made a gesture towards Ralph which the latter understood
perfectly. He nudged Glidden as he passed him, who blinked up at him
intelligently. Then Ralph went home.
It was just after dusk that the young dispatcher left the cottage. It
had set in a cold tempestuous night with blinding snow eddies, and Ralph
wore a protecting storm coat, and carried a good lunch in one of its
capacious pockets.
He walked about a mile across town until he came to the limits crossing,
and stood in the shelter of a flagman's shanty for a few minutes. Then a
sharp whistle greeted his ears. He strained his vision and made out a
dim form loitering near a big heap of ties.
"Mr. Glidden?" spoke Ralph, advancing to meet this man.
"That's what," responded Glidden, in his usually snappy way. "All
ready?"
"Yes."
"It's all arranged. The regular men have been called off for the night.
You take the relay station, and I'll be on duty at the tower station
beyond, catching the messages that fly over the wires, and see if we
can't nail the people who are making the Great Northern all this
trouble."