Ralph on the Midnight Flyer; or, The Wreck at Shadow Valley — John Shaqi
Ralph on the Midnight Flyer; or, The Wreck at Shadow ValleyChapman, Allen
General
Ralph on the Midnight Flyer; or, The Wreck at Shadow Valley
Chapman, Allen
Railroads -- Juvenile fiction
Ralph wanted to tell him the nearest way to get to his office, but he
hit it back, and waited.
“I want to put a proposition before you,” said the supervisor. “I have
turned my thought considerably to the train dispatching on this
division. It might be greatly improved.”
At that Ralph straightened up and his lips became a grim line.
“I can refer you to Mr. Glidden at main headquarters,” he said
bluntly. “He will undoubtedly be glad to take up any matter of the
kind with you. I have no jurisdiction.”
“Yes, yes! I understand all that,” said the supervisor, with a wave of
his hand. “But you know I have practically a free hand here——”
“I have not been so informed. I still take all my orders from Mr.
Glidden,” and Ralph spoke doggedly.
“Listen, young man! You are in no position to war with me. In my
opinion you are quite too young for your responsible position,
anyway.”
“That can be taken up with the general manager if you choose,” said
Ralph, with a sigh, turning away. “He gave me the job.”
“Wait!” exclaimed Hopkins coldly. “You are a very smart young man; but
you do not know everything—not even about your job.”
“I admit the truth of your last statement, anyway,” said Ralph,
grinning slightly. “In my line there is always something to learn.”
“Listen to me, then. I can tell you something.”
“Very well, Mr. Hopkins,” said Ralph. “If you really have something of
importance to say, I am here to listen.”
Ralph was not soothing in his speech. But he had heretofore been
obliged to assert himself over older men in some authority in order to
hold his position. Supervisor Hopkins was intruding, and Ralph felt
that the matter had to be stopped right here and now.
“You understand, Fairbanks,” said the supervisor, “that I have not
called you down here for any picayune matter.”
“I don’t know what you called me away from my duties for,” said Ralph
brusquely. “It must be important. I am listening.”
“I do not attempt to order you to do anything.”
“You seem to expect me to obey your call in the very busiest part of
the day.”
“That is along the line of which I wish to speak,” said Hopkins
composedly. “I think you should be much more closely connected with
your work in the daytime. You have three men in your office between
seven in the morning and seven at night. Now, if you handled the early
short watch and the late short watch yourself——”
“You mean the dog-watches?” demanded Ralph, in surprise.
“Yes. I mean that you could easily arrange your hours so that you
could handle the train traffic between seven and nine a. m. and five
and seven p. m. I mean——”
“What’s this?” demanded Ralph, not only in astonishment, but with
anger. “You want me to come down as early as seven and go away as late
as seven at night? What sort of hours are those?”
“Remember, I am only suggesting,” said Hopkins coldly. “I take it that
you have the interest of the Great Northern at heart.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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