"Yes."
"Have you got it open?"
"Yes."
"Well, gimme a signal."
I jumped on the engine, and with the conductor giving a back-up signal, I jolted those cars into the siding fully as fast as it is safe to back over a frog, and called the flag just in time to prevent Seven's engineer from getting a sight of it, though he saw the man, and told me afterwards that he "guessed" I hadn't been in the switch "more'n a week."
Then the fireman and I had a little argument as to what it was that he saw when he thought Seven had passed us in the yard. The only passenger train on the road at that time was one going the other way. After I had proved it by the time-table, the fireman finally admitted that I was right. He had been boring the flues while I was asleep, and he had also been figuring in his mind as to what would be the best time for us to leave, and decided that if we followed Seven we would be all right, which was perfectly correct; then, with his mind full of Seven, he got down to put away his flue-rod, and hearing a train go by, thought, of course, it must be Seven.
After Seven got away, we proceeded to our destination without further mishap, shoved the train away, and gave up the engine to the hostler. Having been fifty-two hours on her without rest (for the short term of comparative quiet in the yard could not be so termed), I entered on the register this request: "Have been fifty-two hours on duty. Do not call me until I have had eight hours' sleep,—9.30 a.m."
I had just dropped off when I was rudely shaken by the caller, and saluted with "Hey! hey! are ye awake now? Come, I've been callin' ye fer ten minutes; you're wanted for a stock train. Hurry up now; your engine is all ready; train's standing on main track waiting fer ye." When I got my wits collected so as to realize who I was, and who he was, and what he was talking about, I asked him the time.
"Ten-fifteen."
"What! have I only been forty-five minutes off that engine?"
"That's all."
Without another word I tumbled back on the pillow and pulled the bedclothes over my head, but he understood his business; he had been calling unwilling railroaders for four years, and wouldn't be denied. For a while he shook and pleaded with me, and then realizing the seriousness of the case, he snatched off the bedclothes. That was the last straw. I jumped out of bed and made a dive for him; but he had often seen that done before, and was outside the door before I could reach him; and with a parting shot through the crack of the door, "Hurry up now, they're waitin' fer ye," he left.
I gathered up my bedclothes and again crawled uncomfortably into bed, but just as I was beginning to get my ideas into a pleasant state of haziness once more, the door was fired open with a bang, an Indian yell greeted my outraged sense of hearing, and rolling over, I beheld the exultant countenance of mine enemy, safely outside the door this time, and holding up for my inspection a sheet of dirty yellow-colored paper, which I knew was a telegraph form.
"Read that, now, an' see if ye'll get up or not."
I took the paper and read: "Engineer M———, don't you delay this stock train. W. S. B."
A combined order and threat from the train-despatcher, signed with the division superintendent's initials, which are always used by the despatcher on duty,—a peremptory order, to be unquestioningly obeyed. I borrowed the caller's pencil and wrote underneath the order: "W. S. B.,—I have been fifty-two hours on duty, am unfit to take stock train or any other train. J. B. M." I handed it to the caller, and telling him that if he disturbed me again, even though the house should be afire, I would brain him, I once more retired; and although I had no doubt that I had signed my death-warrant, I slept the sleep of the utterly weary.
In answer to the expected letter, I called on the superintendent when I returned, and got my medicine,—thirty days' suspension for refusing to obey an order. I was lucky to get off so. He told me that all that saved my job was the fact that an engine came in off the branch opportunely and brought the stock train through. The fact that I was physically incapacitated did not justify me in refusing that order with his initials attached. I have always had an idea, however, that my troublesome habit of appealing to the general manager had as much to do with preventing my discharge as the arrival of the engine off the branch.
Copyright, 1897, by Herbert E. Hamblen. Mr. Hamblen's next paper will relate his experiences as a passenger engineer.—Editor.
