AN EPISODE OF SENTIMENT
The night man down at Bentonville quit rather suddenly one fall morning,
and as I had no immediate relief in prospect, I wired the chief
despatcher of the division south of me to send me a man if he had any to
spare. That afternoon I received a message from him saying he had sent
Miss Ellen Ross to take the place. I still had a very distinct
recollection of my encounter with Miss Love, and I wasn't overfond of
women operators anyway, so Miss Ross's welcome to my division was not a
hearty one. She was the first woman I had ever had under my
jurisdiction. I was at the office quite late a night or two after this,
and heard some of her work; there was no use denying that she was a very
smooth operator as well as a very prompt one. Burke said he had no
complaint to offer; she was always on time, and I must confess I felt
much chagrined. I wanted a chance to discharge her, but it didn't appear
to materialize. But I was a patient waiter and one morning about three
weeks later I came into the office and on looking over the delay sheet I
saw the following entry in the delay column:
"No. 18 delayed fifty minutes, account not being able to raise the
operator at Bentonville in that time; as an explanation, operator says
she was over at the hotel getting her lunch."
Evidently Miss Ross had little ingenuity in the line of excuses or she
would never have offered such a threadbare one as that. I wanted the
chance to annihilate her and here it was. I called up Bentonville and
asked if Miss Ross was there. She was, and I said, "Isn't it possible
for you to invent a better excuse than 'lunch' for your failure to
answer last night, or this morning rather?"
She drummed on the key for a moment and then said if I didn't like that
excuse I knew what I could do. I caught my breath at her audacity and
then "_did_." I sent her time to her on No. 21, and a man to take her
place. I then dismissed the matter from my mind and supposed that I had
heard the last of Miss Ross. I never was very well acquainted with the
female sex or I would not have dismissed the matter with such
complacency.
A day or two after this I was sitting in the division superintendent's
office, he being out on the road, and I heard a voice say:
"Is this Mr. Bates?" I had not heard anyone come in and I glanced up and
answered, "Yes." I saw before me a young woman of an air and appearance
that fairly took my breath away. I immediately arose to my feet and with
all possible deference invited her to take a seat. I supposed she was
the wife of some of the officials and wanted a pass. In response to my
inquiry as to what could I do for her she said, timidly:
"I am Miss Ross, lately night operator at Bentonville."
Her answer put me more off my ease than ever, but the discipline of the
road had to be maintained at any-cost; so as soon as I could, I put on
my severest look and sternly said, "Well!" She smiled slightly in a way
that made me doubt if she were much impressed by my display of rigor;
and answered, "I came to see if you wouldn't take me back. I am sure I
didn't mean to offend the other night. I have been an operator for
nearly four years and I have never had the least bit of trouble before.
You have no fault to find with my work I am sure; and I promise to be
very careful to never offend again. Won't you please take me back?"
Gee! but she did look pretty and her big black eyes were shining like
bright stars. If she had only known it I was ready by this time to have
given her the best job on the whole division, even my own, but I wasn't
going to give up without a show of resistance and I said:
"Humph! Well let's see!" Then I rang my bell and told the boy to get me
the train sheet of the sixteenth. I looked very stern and very wise as I
read the delay report to her.
"That, Miss Ross, is a very serious offense. A delay of fifty minutes to
any train is bad enough, but when it happens to a through freight it is
the worst possible. Then you say you were at the hotel for lunch. The
order book shows that the despatcher called you from two A. M. until
two-fifty A. M. Isn't that rather an unearthly hour to be going out to
lunch? My recollection of the Bentonville station is that it is a mile
from the excuse of a hotel in the place. Really, I am very sorry but I
don't see how anything can be done."
Discipline was being maintained, you see, in great shape, but all the
time I was delivering my little speech I was feeling like a big
red-headed hypocrite. Miss Ross looked up at me with those beautiful
eyes; then two big tears made their appearance on the scene, and she
sobbed out:
"Well, I know I told a fib when I made that excuse, but the despatcher
was so sharp and I was so scared when he said he had been calling me for
fifty minutes, that I told him the first thing that came into my mind.
Then, the next day I was angry at you, because I thought you were
chaffing me, as I was the only woman on the line, and I suppose I was
rather impudent. But do you think it is fair to discharge me for the
same thing that you only gave Mr. Ferral fifteen days for? Are you not
doing it simply because I am a woman?"
I never could stand a woman's tears, especially a pretty one, and when
she cited the case of Ferral, I realized that I had lost my game. I let
myself down as easily as I could and that night Miss Ross went back to
work at Bentonville, and the man there was put on the waiting list.
It was very funny after this how many times I had to run down to
Bentonville. That Sandia branch line had to be inspected; the switch
board had to be replaced by a new one in "BN" office; wires had to be
changed, a new ground put in, and many other things done, and always I
had to go myself to see that the work was done properly. The agent at
Bentonville came, before very long, to smile in a very knowing way
whenever I jumped off the train; Mr. Antwerp had a peculiarly wise look
in his eye when I mentioned anything about Bentonville, but I didn't
mind it. I was in love with the sweet little girl, and was walking on
the clouds. If I hadn't been I would have seen that my cake was all
dough in that quarter. I might have noticed that big Dan Forbush had an
amused look in his eye when I went off on one of these trips. If I had
watched the mail I might have seen numerous little billets coming daily
from Bentonville, addressed in a neat round hand to "Mr. Dan Forbush."
But I didn't, I kept right on in my mad career, and one day when my
courage was high I offered my hand and my heart to Miss Ross. She
refused and told me that while she was honored by my proposal, she had
been engaged to Mr. Forbush for two years, having known him down on the
"Sunset" before he came to our road. I took my defeat as philosophically
as I could and the next spring she left Bentonville for good, and Dan
took a three weeks' leave. When he came back he brought sweet Ellen as
his bride. One evening not long after that I was calling there, when
Mrs. Forbush looked up at me very naively and said:
"Mr. Bates, did I pay you back for discharging me?"
[Illustration: "Are you not doing it just because I am a woman?"]
There's no doubt about it, she did, and I felt it. She was the third
girl to throw me over, and I determined to give up the business and go
for a soldier. I stuck it out there till fall and then resigned for all
time.