WILLARD ENCOUNTERS A FRIEND
Two days later, Willard, armed with his petition, made the trip to
Providence. He had secured fifty-five signatures without difficulty,
and as they stood for the prominent and influential citizens of
Audelsville both he and Tom felt comfortably certain of success.
Willard had offered to let Tom make the journey, but Tom had pointed
out that if he did they would lose a day with the car. “Maybe it
wouldn’t make much difference,” he added gloomily, “but I guess I’d
better stay here and attend to business. We need all the money we can
get.”
So it was Willard who boarded the 9:01 that Monday morning and settled
himself back in a red plush seat with a feeling of vast importance. The
agent at Audelsville had told him where to find the railroad offices
when he reached his destination and had even taken enough interest in
the project to suggest that Willard see the Division Superintendent
in the forenoon. He would be in better humor then, thought the local
agent.
Possibly neither you nor I would have considered the trip to Providence
anything more than a bore, but to Willard, who seldom traveled by
train, it was quite exciting and very far from being a bore. He arrived
at Providence almost a whole hour before noon and made his way at
once to the offices of the railroad, which occupied all of a big,
old-fashioned brick building across the street from the station. An
elevator took him past one floor and deposited him on the next, and he
wandered down a long, dim corridor lined with doors whose upper halves
held ground glass variously inscribed with figures and letters. Room 18
was found at last and, uncertain whether to knock or walk boldly in,
Willard finally turned the knob and entered. Inside he found himself
confronted by a counter which ran the width of the room and behind
which were three desks occupied by as many busy men. As no one paid any
attention to him, at the end of a minute Willard summoned his courage.
“I’d like to see the Division Superintendent,” he announced to the room
at large. A young man with a worried expression looked up and fixed
Willard with a stern gaze.
“Business?” he demanded.
“Yes, sir,” replied Willard.
“Business?” demanded the man in a louder tone.
“Oh――why――if you please, I’d like to see him about getting a stand at
Audelsville,” stammered Willard.
“Stand?” The man frowned. A second occupant of the room bobbed his head
inquiringly around the corner of his desk, scowled and disappeared
again. Willard wondered if he was the Superintendent. “What sort of a
stand?” demanded the first man crossly.
“Why, a stand for an automobile.” Willard pulled his petition from his
pocket and the man arose and came to the counter, stretching a hand
forth for the document. Willard gave it to him and the man skimmed it
quickly. Then:
“I see,” he said rather contemptuously, deftly dipping a pen in an
ink-well and proffering it. “All right. Put your name and address in
the corner here and leave it.”
“Leave it?” Willard, with pen in hand, hesitated.
“Yes. We’ll let you hear in a few days. Hurry up, please.”
“But――but I’d rather see Mr. Cummings himself, sir!”
“I dare say. But Mr. Cummings is busy. He can’t see everyone, you know,
kid.”
“But I came all the way from Audelsville, sir!” pleaded Willard. “I――I
might just as well have mailed this if――if I can’t see him.”
“Just as well,” replied the other, yawning frankly and glancing at the
electric clock on the wall. “Well?”
“Don’t you think he’d see me for just a minute? Would you mind asking
him, please?”
“Yes, I’d mind very much,” was the impatient reply. “If you want to
leave this application put your name on it. If you don’t, move along.
We’re busy here, my young friend.”
“But――――” Willard sighed disappointedly――“if I could just wait here
until he was at leisure――――”
The door behind him opened and closed briskly, and a familiar voice
asked: “Cummings in, Jones?”
“Yes, Mr. Latham. Step right in, sir.” The man, now smiling and eager
to please, hurried toward the end of the counter, lifted a hinged
section of it and stood aside while the newcomer hurried through and
tapped at a door which Willard had not noticed. In an instant the door
had opened and closed and Mr. Latham had disappeared into the inner
office. The clerk, for Willard decided that he was no more than that,
sauntered back.
“That was Mr. Latham, wasn’t it?” asked Willard.
The clerk nodded.
“Well, I guess I’d like to speak to him when he comes out. May I wait
here?”
“Do you know Mr. Latham?”
Willard nodded as carelessly as the clerk. There was nothing to be
gained by modesty, he felt. “Yes, I know him,” he said.
Evidently impressed, the clerk moved back to his desk. “All right. Take
a seat there.”
Willard returned his petition to his pocket and retired to one of the
two chairs along the wall. Ten minutes passed, and then ten minutes
more, and finally the door opened again and Mr. Latham came through.
Willard waited until the first vice-president was outside the counter.
Then:
“Mr. Latham, may I speak to you a minute, please?” he asked,
intercepting the gentleman in front of the door.
“Eh?” The official paused. “Certainly, my boy. Hello, I’ve seen you
before, haven’t I?”
“Yes, sir, I――we――took you to the paper mills the other day, you know;
at Audelsville, sir.”
“Of course! How are you?” Mr. Latham shook hands heartily. “Let me see,
did you tell me your name?”
“No, sir. My name’s Willard Morris.”
“Well, Morris, what can I do for you? Here, let’s sit down a minute.
Now then!”
“We want to be allowed to stand our automobile at the station, sir.
You see, as it is now, they won’t let us because Connors, the livery
stable man, has the――the exclusive privilege. It’s hard to get
passengers, Mr. Latham, unless you’re at the platform. Folks don’t see
you, sir.”
“I suppose not. What’s this?”
“It’s a petition. It’s got fifty-five signatures on it, sir. I thought
maybe――――”
“Very business-like, Morris.” Mr. Latham smiled as he ran his eyes over
the petition. “Well, you’d better see Cummings about this. He’s the one
to go to.”
“That’s what I came here for, sir, but they said he was too busy and
wanted me to leave this.”
“Oh, I guess he’s got time to see you. You come with me.” Mr. Latham
led the way past the counter and knocked again at the inner door.
“Charlie, here’s a young gentleman who wants to see you,” announced the
First Vice-President as, followed by Willard, he entered and closed
the door again. “He’s got a petition signed by about half the citizens
of Audelsville. See what you can do for him, will you? Morris, this
is Mr. Cummings. Charlie, shake hands with Mr. Willard Morris, one of
Audelsville’s hustling citizens.”
The big man at the big desk smiled and shook hands. “Glad to do
anything I can for you, Mr. Morris,” he said. “What’s wanted?”
“Show him that document, Morris,” directed Mr. Latham.
Mr. Cummings read it and then looked dubiously at Mr. Latham.
“Seems to me we’ve let somebody have the station privilege at
Audelsville, Henry,” he said.
“We have, but competition’s the life of trade, they say, Charlie, and
these young gentlemen are particular friends of mine. I guess we can
let them in, can’t we?”
“I suppose so.” Mr. Cummings pressed one of a row of buttons at the
edge of his desk and almost at once a clerk entered. “Dictation,
Graham.” The clerk seated himself, pulled a book from his pocket
and poised a pencil. Mr. Cummings fixed his eyes on the ceiling.
“To――――” He glanced at the petition in his hand――“To Benton and Morris
Transportation Company, Audelsville, R. I. ‘Gentlemen: Your application
for platform privilege at Audelsville station received and same is
hereby granted, terminable at our discretion. We have notified our
agent to afford you space for one’――eh?”
“Could you make it two, please?” asked Willard.
The Passenger Agent shot a glance of inquiry at the First Vice-President,
and the latter, with a smile, nodded.
“All right. ‘Space for two vehicles. Respectfully, and so forth.’
Typewrite that immediately, please, and I’ll sign it. Here’s another.
‘Agent, Audelsville, R. I. Benton and Morris Transportation Company
granted platform privilege until further notice. You will provide them
space for two vehicles. Respectfully and so forth.’ That all I can do
for you?”
“Yes, sir, thank you very much,” replied Willard. “Good morning.”