A CLASH OF AUTHORITY
When Zeph Dallas showed himself in Ralph’s office about noon the
latter had several points which he could lay before the enthusiastic
amateur sleuth.
“But you musn’t go it alone any longer, Zeph,” the young train
dispatcher said. “There’s something going to break soon, and Mr. Adair
will want to know all you get wise to, and as fast as you discover it.
What do you suppose he sends you roosters out along the line for, your
health?”
Zeph grinned. “I know he is combing every division for information
regarding a possible strike. The Great Northern doesn’t want to bring
in a private detective agency with their guards if it can be helped. I
know.”
“All right—you know so much! Listen to this,” and Ralph told him of
his discovery through the aid of the old timekeeper. “And now here is
this man who was with Andy McCarrey last night.”
“Who’s that? Whitey Malone? I just saw him, sobered up, but with two
beautiful black eyes.”
“We never gave him those,” declared Ralph. “I bet McCarrey pitched
into him for losing the list Perrin sent by him. Well, that other man
I heard McCarrey call ‘Grif’ must be Griffin Falk, and he acts as
McCarrey’s secretary, or right-hand man. Mac is no literary character.
He can talk, but the words have to be put into his mouth. They say
Grif writes his speeches and handles all his correspondence.”
“Then we know quite some to tell Mr. Bob Adair,” said Zeph, with
satisfaction.
“You are right we do. Here is this list. I have written beside
Perrin’s writing the full names of the four men and what they do in
the shops and how they stand in the union. They will have to be
watched from now on. Well, it is nothing in my young life. I am going
to tend to my knitting and keep out of any trouble, that’s all.”
Zeph fairly giggled. “I hear you,” he said. “But you won’t be able to
sit up in this conning tower of yours and calmly watch a ruction down
below without getting into it, and getting in with both feet.”
“No, no! Nothing like that,” declared Ralph, smiling and shaking his
head as his friend departed.
The young train dispatcher really meant what he said. He hated to see
things going wrong for the division—for the whole Great Northern
system, in fact. But he had his job, and his place in the railroad
system, and he did not mean to step aside.
He considered himself quite invulnerable where he sat. He was
independent of everybody save his good friend, Glidden, at main
headquarters. As long as he managed to drive through his schedules
with some kind of regularity, Ralph felt that nobody could actually
hurt him with the company.
But not long after luncheon one of the callboys came to the door of
his little private office and said:
“Mist’ Hopkins wants you, Mist’ Fairbanks. Just told me. Right now.”
“Wants me?” queried Ralph, in more surprise than apprehension. “The
super?”
“Yep. Bet you he’s got some new way for you to run the trains. Two on
the same track, mebbe, to save wear on the iron,” and the saucy
youngster went away, chuckling.
That is the way the entire force was considering the supervisor. Not
even the callboys had proper respect for the bothersome official.
Ralph hesitated a little before responding to the request of Mr.
Hopkins. Hopkins had absolutely no authority over the train
dispatcher’s department. In fact, the divisional officers took orders,
to a degree, from the train dispatchers. For that department “lapped
over” onto the main and other divisions of the Great Northern. Ralph
had to handle trains to and from the other divisions of the system.
So he hesitated about answering the call to Mr. Hopkins’ office. Any
other man in Hopkins’ place would have come to Ralph’s room and said
his little say, whatever it was. The day when a supervisor could call
a train dispatcher to account was long since past in railroading.
Ralph looked over what was being done in his outer office before
descending the flight to the supervisor’s room. It was at the busiest
time of the day and the young chief dispatcher kept his eye constantly
on what was going on during every afternoon. He had his best men on
duty at night.
Hopkins was drumming impatiently on his desk with a pencil when Ralph
entered. The latter secretly wished to tell him that that drumming was
“waste energy.” But the supervisor’s face did not encourage any
expression of humor.
“I have been waiting for you, Mr. Fairbanks,” he said sharply.
Ralph wanted to tell him the nearest way to get to his office, but he
hit it back, and waited.
“I want to put a proposition before you,” said the supervisor. “I have
turned my thought considerably to the train dispatching on this
division. It might be greatly improved.”
At that Ralph straightened up and his lips became a grim line.
“I can refer you to Mr. Glidden at main headquarters,” he said
bluntly. “He will undoubtedly be glad to take up any matter of the
kind with you. I have no jurisdiction.”
“Yes, yes! I understand all that,” said the supervisor, with a wave of
his hand. “But you know I have practically a free hand here——”
“I have not been so informed. I still take all my orders from Mr.
Glidden,” and Ralph spoke doggedly.
“Listen, young man! You are in no position to war with me. In my
opinion you are quite too young for your responsible position,
anyway.”
“That can be taken up with the general manager if you choose,” said
Ralph, with a sigh, turning away. “He gave me the job.”
“Wait!” exclaimed Hopkins coldly. “You are a very smart young man; but
you do not know everything—not even about your job.”
“I admit the truth of your last statement, anyway,” said Ralph,
grinning slightly. “In my line there is always something to learn.”
“Listen to me, then. I can tell you something.”
“Very well, Mr. Hopkins,” said Ralph. “If you really have something of
importance to say, I am here to listen.”
Ralph was not soothing in his speech. But he had heretofore been
obliged to assert himself over older men in some authority in order to
hold his position. Supervisor Hopkins was intruding, and Ralph felt
that the matter had to be stopped right here and now.
“You understand, Fairbanks,” said the supervisor, “that I have not
called you down here for any picayune matter.”
“I don’t know what you called me away from my duties for,” said Ralph
brusquely. “It must be important. I am listening.”
“I do not attempt to order you to do anything.”
“You seem to expect me to obey your call in the very busiest part of
the day.”
“That is along the line of which I wish to speak,” said Hopkins
composedly. “I think you should be much more closely connected with
your work in the daytime. You have three men in your office between
seven in the morning and seven at night. Now, if you handled the early
short watch and the late short watch yourself——”
“You mean the dog-watches?” demanded Ralph, in surprise.
“Yes. I mean that you could easily arrange your hours so that you
could handle the train traffic between seven and nine a. m. and five
and seven p. m. I mean——”
“What’s this?” demanded Ralph, not only in astonishment, but with
anger. “You want me to come down as early as seven and go away as late
as seven at night? What sort of hours are those?”
“Remember, I am only suggesting,” said Hopkins coldly. “I take it that
you have the interest of the Great Northern at heart.”
“And a little of the interest of Ralph Fairbanks at heart,” returned
the young fellow angrily. “Why, what chance would I have for any
freedom? I come down at nine now and go away at five. Why should I go
back to the key during the dog watches?”
“If you will do so I can show you how you may get rid of one
operator.”
“I don’t wish to get rid of one operator. I ought really to have
another. Let me remind you, Mr. Hopkins, the strain on a train
dispatcher and his assistants, especially under the schedules we have
to make on this division just now, is something fierce! You don’t know
what you are talking about, Mr. Hopkins.”
“I know exactly what I am talking about, young man,” said the
supervisor grimly, and those eyeglasses of his seemed fairly to
sparkle. “I am pointing out to you a way in which you can save the
road one man’s salary——”
“Tell that to the stockholders—don’t tell it to me!” cried Ralph
angrily. “If I can find some way of making them see at headquarters
that I need another man, I am going to do so. I know what is needed in
my department. You don’t. Keep your hands off!”
Hopkins spoke again before the train dispatcher reached the door.
“You would better consider my offer of advice, Fairbanks,” and his
voice was like ice. “I give you a chance, first.”
“To whom will you give the second chance?” demanded Ralph, looking
back at him.
“I shall place my advice before the proper authorities. They have
hired me to make this division efficient in every way. I do not like
to go over your head——”
“Don’t let that bother you,” answered Ralph. “I shall not hold it
against you, Mr. Hopkins, if you manage to take your ideas before a
special meeting of the board. Nobody save John Glidden is going to
give me my orders. You may as well understand that right now.
Good-day!”
He swung out of the room, closing the door with an emphatic bang. He
felt a decided warmth of satisfaction because of this throwing of his
glove at Mr. Hopkins’ feet. Yet he thought, too:
“Well, that does settle me with Miss Cherry. I am persona non grata
there for the rest of the chapter. Humph! What cheek—what cold, brass,
gall—that man has!”