Manifestly, in order to treat my subject in the widest and fairest manner, all sentimental or personal scruples must be thrown aside. In explaining my position I can in no way be a respecter of persons or traditions. To me the management of a railroad is merely part of the subject-matter which I am called upon to consider, and an organization of railroad men is nothing more or less, so far as my investigation is concerned, than a combination of units constituting a certain influence which I feel myself at perfect liberty to criticise in the interests of the larger social body represented by the traveling public. The death roll and the record of suffering in preventable accidents in the United States is justification, repeated a hundred times over, for any and every conceivable probe into personal conduct or the policy of organizations. But in holding up the conduct of others to criticism, it is but reasonable that I should begin with my own conduct and work in the matter. By what methods and means, for example, have I arrived at the conclusion that on our railroads the interests of the community have become secondary to those of the employee and his organization? This, of course, must be looked upon as a very serious statement, and it certainly calls for the earnest consideration of intelligent railroad men. In order to understand the nature of my evidence on the subject, it will be necessary to go back with me to the time when my attention was first directed to railroad accidents. In the year 1892 a very serious accident occurred near the signal tower where I was employed. Although I was not on duty at the time I was naturally very much interested in the case, and I paid particular attention to the evidence that was brought forward at the hearing in the effort that was made to hold an engineman responsible for the disaster. A passenger train, standing at a “home signal,” which was set at danger, was telescoped from the rear by a freight train, running practically at full speed. About 1500 feet from the home signal a distant signal was located. This signal, in the cautionary position at the time, was a distinct notification to the freight engineman to proceed cautiously and to prepare to stop before arriving at the home signal. An additional reason for such caution arose from the fact that the night was dark and extremely foggy. The explanation of this accident was to me extremely simple. The signals were all right, and so were the rules for that matter; but, from one end of the road to the other, these distant signals were dead letters. In the daytime, with apparently a clear track, absolutely no significance was attached to them; consequently I was not surprised at this disaster in a fog. But the incident was brought home to me in such a dreadful way that it started a line of thought and an investigation into the safety problem on our railroads, that has lasted until to-day.