interests nor those of the public. The whole business must be looked upon as the natural sequel of the seniority principle. It is a concession granted during “rush hours,” when bumping was not anticipated. To understand this thoroughly, let us take a concrete illustration.
On a certain railroad there is a section, say from X to Y over which a local freight train has plied daily for a number of years. Along this route there are, perhaps, as many as fifty large foundries and industrial plants, to attend to the requirements of which this local freight was put on the road. The conductor of this train has attended to this business with satisfaction to his employers, and to the patrons of the road, for three or four years. He thoroughly understands the ins and outs of his route, all about the different switches, side-tracks, dangerous places, and difficulties that are to be encountered. He is personally acquainted with the foremen of the different establishments. He knows just what they want and when they want it; he understands when and where they want cars loaded and emptied. He has the phraseology of the different side-tracks on the tip of his tongue. When he arrives at any little town, his switch list reads something like this:—
“Six for Dublin St.” “Two for Jerrys.” “Three for The Middle.” “Seven for The Hole.”
In short, our conductor is the right man in the
