They trusted it as they looked up from their paper.....It was the old,
dividend look.
John’s eye dropped to it for a moment and his voice quickened a little.
He had come to a difficult part of the report. It was delicate treading
here--“Equipment for the coming year: Thirty-nine new engines will be
needed--twelve of the big Pacific type, the numbers running from 3,517
to 3,528, and ten combination fast freight and passenger engines of the
2,000 series. The other seventeen....”
He felt the hoard quiver subtly. They stirred in their places. He knew,
without looking up, the inquiring glances gathering on the impassive
face at the head of the table.... “The other seventeen will be switching
engines and the heaviest kind of freight engines...” The voice went
quietly on, but his hand had dropped ever so lightly on the shoulder
beside him as he turned a page of the report. The shoulder straightened
beneath the touch.
The president of the road looked up and nodded to the swift, darting
glances--once--twice, the old, keen, reassuring look--intrepid and cool.
The directors turned the pages with easier fingers, but a new alertness
was in the air. These were details that any one could grasp--with their
implications.... “Six hundred box cars--forty passenger coaches, each to
cost $6,500.” The look of sleepy content was banished from the board.
But the president of the road met the glances that traveled toward him,
with steady front. The figures had startled the directors, but they
seemed as music in his ears. “Thirty-nine engines--twelve of the big
Pacific type--” sang to him! He sat a little straighter, his quick nod
assenting to each detail and vouching for items that might so easily
have stirred a challenge.
The directors had no eyes for the young man taking the papers from
Tetlow’s hand, reading them one by one. He was hardly more than a Voice.
They did not note that the stubby hand as it reached out to take a paper
from the trembling one closed upon it firmly for a minute and that
the hand ceased to shake. When the next item was read, the hand lifted
itself from the table with a little gesture of pride and assent. The
proposed improvements and equipment would cost a round million,--But
the road could stand a million dollars--and more.... The lifted hand had
said this eloquently before it dropped.
The room breathed more easily, and into the voice that read the items
there crept a quiet note of relief.
Twenty minutes more.
Ten minutes--now...
Five minutes....
The president of the road swayed a little toward the table. He might be
consulting the paper in his hand--it was the last one--before he handed
it to the sturdy young man beside him to read.
The young man leaning toward him to take it, blotted out for a moment
the thin, bent figure. When his shoulders straightened themselves again,
the president of the “R. and Q.” was erect in his chair, his inscrutable
face turned toward the directors.
The young man read rapidly from the paper. It was a summary of items.
They had the substance of it already. This only gathered it into smaller
compass for them, the quiet voice seemed to assure them, as it went
swiftly to the end.
“There is one point not included in the formal report that the President
intended to speak to you about.” He had laid down the paper and was
looking at them.
They returned the glance, finding a certain pleasure in this sturdy
young man.
Simeon looked up with a little, startled glance.... The hand touched his
arm carelessly and rested there while the voice went on speaking.
“It had been President Tetlow’s wish to ask for a leave of absence--to
take effect at your pleasure--”
The arm beneath the hand stirred and Simeon ’s mouth opened with an
inarticulate sound.
The directors glanced at him with sympathetic, humorous smile.
The senior director was on his feet proposing a motion--Three other
directors, all on their feet, were seconding it--It was carried with a
little informal hurst of enthusiasm.
Simeon rose to his feet. It was as if he thought that he could respond.
The directors were looking at him with expectant faces.
He bowed toward them and opened his lips--and broke into a long, deep,
helpless cough.
John put up his hand to the directors, smiling, and escorted him swiftly
to the door....
There was a pleasant hurry of sound among the directors, a getting into
light overcoats and shaking of hands, a murmur of dividends, and a rush
for trains.
Up in the little office Simeon Tetlow stood by the window. He held up
his hand--groping, trembling toward the light--He looked at it, and
tried to hold it still--and still looked at it--the light falling
faintly through it.... “They trust me, John! They trust _me!_ But how
dare they trust me!” The shaking hand flickered its quivering, helpless
dance against the light.
The young man drew it down, covering it with his own. “They trust you,
sir, because you’ve never failed them,” he said quietly.