Two weeks had passed when the Philosopher met Patsy, now in deep
disgrace. Patsy had been expelled from the Brotherhood for aiding a
scab. "O! it's nothing," said Patsy.
"That's right. It won't be worth much to belong to the Union when this
cruel war is over."
"Only a fellow hates to get the worst of it when he really tries to tote
fair."
"The best you can get is the worst of it when you are bound by oath to
an organization that is engaged in a hopeless fight. The president
offered yesterday to take back seventy-five per cent. of the men, and
immediately they said he was running. This morning the offer is for
sixty per cent., but they won't have it. Have they offered to balm you
with promotion?"
"Yes."
"Varnished cars, eh?"
"Yep--finest train on the road."
"And you told them?--"
"No."
"Well, I think you did right. Shall we go and peck?"
"Have you been working?"
"No. I've been vag'd. When the police got through with me, and returned
my pie-card I turned it in for a commutation ticket, and there are still
a few feeds to the good on it. The commutation ticket is the proper card
for a gentleman in straitened circumstances. You are not obliged to
gorge yourself at early morn with a whole twenty-cent breakfast when all
you really need is a cup of black coffee and a roll. Besides, when a man
is not working he should not eat so much. I frequently edge in with a
crowd of other gentlemen and procure a nice warm lunch at one of the
beer saloons, omitting the beer. By the way, the free lunch room is a
good place for the study of human nature. There you will see the poor
working man fish up his last five cents to pay for a beer in order to
get a hot lunch, and if you look closely, spot a two-by-four-shopkeeper,
for instance, as he enters the front door, and keep your eye on him
until he goes out again, you will observe that he hasn't lost a cent. A
little dark man who runs a three-ball in La Salle Street makes a
business of this, and of loaning money at fifty per cent. and seems to
be doing quite well."
When they had reached a "Kohlsaat" the two men sat down, or up, and when
they had finished Patsy paid for the meal.
"If you see a man who has wood to saw or a piano to tune or anything
that isn't scabbin' I wish you'd give me a character and get me the
job," said the Philosopher when they had reached the sidewalk.
"You follow my smoke," said Patsy, after a moment's meditation, and he
strolled down the crowded street, turning and twisting through the
multitude like a man trying to lose a dog, but he couldn't lose the
Philosopher. Presently he stepped in front of a big building, waited for
his companion, and they went in together.
"Mr. Stonaker," said Patsy when he had been admitted to the general
manager's private office, "I have a favor to ask. I want you to give a
friend of mine a job. He's a switchman, and a good trainman, but he will
not take the place of a striker."
"Can you vouch for his honesty, Patsy?" asked the official.
"I think I can."
"Very well, we want a reliable watchman here in the building; bring your
friend in."
When the Philosopher had been informed as to his new duties, and learned
that he was to have charge of the entire building, he asked if Patsy had
given his history.
"I have vouched for you," said Patsy, a little embarrassed.
The general manager pressed a button and when the stenographer came in
instructed him to take the man's personal record, in accordance with a
well-known rule. This information is intended chiefly as a guide to the
management in notifying the relatives or friends of an employee in case
of accident or death. The manager did the questioning and when the man
had given his name and declared that he had no relatives, no home, no
friends--except Patsy--the official showed some surprise and asked:
"Where did you work last?"
"In the workhouse."
"When?" queried the general manager, casting a quick glance at Patsy,
who was growing nervous.
"'Bout a year ago now."
"At what particular place have you lived or lodged since that time?"
"In jail."
"What were you in jail for?"
"Stealing a meal-ticket, this coat and cap from Patsy."
"I gave the things to him, sir," said Patsy, "and he was discharged."
"Where have you been living since you left the workhouse?"
"In the streets and in the fields."
"Do you drink?"
"No, sir."
"Do you mean to tell me that an experienced yardman, strong and
intelligent as you appear to be, can sink so low without being a
drunkard?"
"Yes, sir."
"And you have been foreman in the Buffalo yards? What else have you
been?"
"A Union man, tramp, bum, vag, thief, and a scab."
"Huh!" said the general manager, pushing out his lips, "is this your
notion of a reliable man, Patsy?"
"Yes, sir, I still vouch for him."
The general manager looked puzzled. "But you could hardly expect me to
employ, in a responsible position, a self-confessed criminal?"
"And yet," said the Philosopher, "if I had lied to you I might have
gained a good place, but having told the truth I suppose I must go."
The general manager, who had left his seat, began to pace the floor.
"It may be possible for an honest man to be a tramp--even a vag, but why
did you steal?"
"For the same reason that I took the place of a striker the other
day--because I was hungry," said the Philosopher looking the general
manager full in the face.
"But what brought you to this condition? that's what I want to know,"
said the official earnestly. "And if you can explain that, you can have
the place, provided you really want to reform."
"I'm not so anxious to reform," said the Philosopher. "What I want is a
show to earn an honest living, and let the balance of the world reform.
But if you want to know what brought me to my present condition I can
tell you--this is the instrument." And the man lifted from the manager's
desk a slip of paper, full of names, across the top of which was printed
"Black List."
"It's the blight of the black-list that is upon me, sir, and it gives me
pleasure to be able to present to you a sample of the class of citizens
you and your associates are turning out," said the Philosopher with much
feeling, and he turned to go.
"Stay," said Patsy. "Mr. Stonaker, you told me yesterday that if I ever
needed your assistance in any way to make my wants known."
"And do you still vouch for this man?"
"I do."
"Very well, then--he can have the place!"