that are concerned in the trouble, have yet to be heard from.
However, regardless of the nature or value of the discussion, the fact remains that we railroad men still continue in the same blind rut, and there is no perceptible improvement in efficiency. Managers and superintendents appear to be helpless in the matter. They are evidently unable to stem the tide of preventable casualties.
The story of one accident is the story of them all. There is a smash-up. Property is destroyed, perhaps passengers are hurt. The superintendent at once starts an investigation. It is practically secret. Not a word in regard to it is allowed to leak out. After a while a decision is arrived at and a verdict is rendered,—in secret. Then discipline is administered. A private communication containing verdict and penalty is sent to the accused party. This, of course, he keeps to himself, and the incident is closed.
But before long another employee, in utter ignorance of the first man’s blunder, commits the same mistake. Both of these wrecks may have been serious, perhaps with loss of life, but that makes no difference. Our traditions and ancient habits have not been interfered with and the bills have been paid. Such is discipline in the dark. Great, indeed, is secrecy.
