Munroe Kirk
Cab and Caboose: The Story of a Railroad Boy
CHAPTER XIV.
THE SUPERINTENDENT INVESTIGATES
At length a long-drawn whistle from the locomotive attached to Freight Number 73, warned Rod and his fellow-prisoner that the time for them to make a combined effort for liberty was at hand. It also notified the curious watchers at the station of the approach of the train for which they were waiting. The trainmen were surprised at the unusual number of people gathered about the station, and the evident interest with which their arrival was regarded. At the same time those composing the little throng of waiting spectators were amazed, as the train drew up and stopped, to hear loud cries for help proceeding from a car in its centre.
“It’s number 50!” exclaimed one, “the very car we are looking for.”
“So it is! Break open the door! Some one is being murdered in there!” shouted other voices, and a rush was made for the car.
As its door was pushed open, by a dozen eager hands, a wretched-looked figure, who had evidently been pressing closely against it, and was unprepared for such a sudden movement, pitched out headlong into the crowd. As he staggered to his feet he tried to force his way through them, with the evident intention of running away; but he was seized and held.
For a moment the whole attention of the spectators was directed toward him, and he was stupefied by the multitude of questions showered upon him at once. Then some one cried “Look out! There’s another in there!” and immediately poor Rod was roughly dragged to the ground. “Take them into the waiting-room, and see that they don’t escape while I examine the car. There may be more of the gang hidden in there,” commanded the station agent. So to the waiting-room the prisoners were hustled with scant ceremony. As yet no one knew what they had done, nor even what they were charged with doing; but every one agreed that they were two of the toughest looking young villains ever seen in that part of the country.
During the confusion, no one had paid any attention to the arrival, from the west, of a locomotive drawing a single car. Nor did they notice a brisk, business-like appearing man who left this car, and walked, with a quick step, toward the waiting-room. Every one therefore looked up in surprise when he entered it and demanded, in a tone of authority, “What’s the trouble here?”
Instantly a murmur was heard of, “It’s the superintendent. It’s the ‘super’ himself”; and, as the crowd respectfully made way for him, a dozen of voices were raised in attempted explanation of what had happened. As no one really knew what had happened, no two of the voices told the same story; but the superintendent catching the words “murderers, thieves, tramps, brakeman killed, and car robbed,” became convinced that he had a most serious case on his hands, and that the disreputable-looking young fellows before him must be exceedingly dangerous characters. In order to arrive at an understanding of the case more quickly, he ordered the room to be cleared of all except the prisoners, the station agent, and the trainmen of Freight Number 73, whom he told to guard the doors.
He first examined the conductor, who was as surprised as any one else to find that he had been carrying two passengers of whom he knew nothing on his train. He had no information to give, excepting what Conductor Tobin had told him, and what the superintendent had already learned by telegraph, of Brakeman Joe’s condition. The other trainmen knew nothing more.
The station agent told of the despatch he had received, of the finding of the lads in car number 50, and that its contents were apparently untouched.
Here the superintendent dismissed the trainmen, and ordered Freight Number 73 to go ahead. Then, with new guards stationed at the doors, he proceeded to question the prisoners themselves. As Bill, the tramp, seemed to be the elder of the two, he was the first examined. In answer to the questions who he was, where he came from, and what he had been doing in car number 50, Bill said, with exactly the manner he would have used in addressing a Police Justice:
“Please yer Honor we’s pards, me an’ him is, an’ we’s bin tendin’ stock on de road. We was on de train last night when it was attackeded by a lot of fellers who was beatin’ de brakeman. We went to help him, an’ was chucked inter de car, an’ de door locked on us. We’s bin tryin’ to get out even since, me an’ him has, yer Honor, but we couldn’t make nobody hear us till we got here. We’s nearly dead for food an’ drink, yer Honor, an’ we’s honest, hard-working boys, an’ dat’s de truth if I die for it, yer Honor. He’d tell yer de same, but fer a bit of a difference me and him had when he swore to git even wid me. So maybe he’ll lie now; but yer Honor can depend on what I’m—”
“That will do,” interrupted the superintendent. Then turning to Rodman he asked, “What have you to say for yourself?”
“If you’ll please give me a drink of water I’ll try to tell all I know of this affair,” answered the boy huskily, now speaking for the first time since he had been taken from the car.
When the water was brought, and Bill had been given a drink as well as himself, Rod continued, “I was a stockman on that train in charge of a horse—”
“Jest as I was a-tellin’ yer Honor,” murmured Bill.
“And there was a fight with tramps, who attempted to rob the car in which we were found.”
Here Bill nodded his head approvingly as much as to say “I told you so.”
“But this fellow was one of them, and he helped make a prisoner of me, and to bind and gag me. He would have thrown the freight out of the car to those who were waiting outside to receive it, if I hadn’t succeeded in closing the door, and locking us both in—”
“Ooo! didn’t I tell yer Honor he’d maybe lie on me?” protested Bill.
“Keep quiet!” commanded the superintendent sharply, and then to Rod he said: “How can you prove your statements?”
“I can prove that I was bound and gagged by these marks,” replied the boy, pointing to the sides of his mouth which were red and chafed, and holding out his swollen wrists for the superintendent’s inspection. “And I can prove that I was travelling in charge of a horse by this.” Here Rod produced the note from Juniper’s owner, asking his brother to pay the bearer two dollars and a half upon the safe delivery of the horse.
“I have a paper too,” broke in Bill, fumbling in his pockets. From one of them he finally produced a dirty note, signed by a Western cattle dealer, and authorizing one Bill Miner to take charge of certain stock about to be shipped over the New York and Western railroad.
The superintendent read the two notes, and looked at the two young fellows. In general appearance one was very nearly as bad as the other; for, though Rod did not realize the fact, his clothing and person were so torn and dirty from the fight of the preceding night and his subsequent rough experience, that he looked very nearly as much of a tramp as Bill himself.
“I wonder which of you I am to believe, or if either is telling me the truth?” said the superintendent dubiously, half aloud and half to himself.
CHAPTER XV.
SMILER TO THE RESCUE
At that moment a small dog walked into the room, wagging his tail with an air of being perfectly at home there. Rod was the first to notice him, and his eye lighted with a gleam of genuine pleasure.
“Smiler? Smiler, old dog!” he said.
The next instant Smiler was licking his face and testifying to his joy at again meeting this friend, in the most extravagant manner. Suddenly he caught sight of Bill, and drawing back his upper lip with an ominous growl, would have flown at the young tramp had not Rodman restrained him.
“That settles it, so far as I am concerned,” exclaimed the superintendent, with a relieved air. “Any one that Smiler recognizes as a friend must be an honest fellow; while the person whom Smiler calls an enemy, must have given him good cause for his enmity, and is to be regarded with distrust by all railroad men. Now, I am going to carry you two chaps to the Junction where Conductor Tobin and his crew are lying off to-day. There, I have no doubt, this whole matter will be explained satisfactorily to me and to one of you, as well as with perfect justice to you both.”
Smiler, who had reached this station on a passenger locomotive, now attached himself resolutely to Rod, and followed him into the superintendent’s private car, here he was made as cordially welcome as he would have been in the humblest caboose on the road. Some of his enthusiastic admirers declared that Smiler owned the road; while all admitted that there was but one other individual connected with it, whose appearance was so uniformly welcome as his, and that was the paymaster.
Now, there was a marked difference shown between the treatment of Smiler’s friend, and that of his enemy. The former was invited to sit down with the superintendent and eat dinner, which was announced as ready soon after they left the station; but Bill was consigned to the care of a brakeman who received strict orders not to give him a chance to escape. He was given a substantial meal of course; for Mr. Hill the superintendent was not a man who would permit anybody to suffer from hunger if he could help it. Here the courtesy extended to him ended, and he was treated in all respects like a prisoner. Most of the time he rode in sullen silence; but occasionally he broke forth with vehement protestations of his innocence, and of the truth of the story he had told.
Rodman, on the other hand, was treated with marked consideration; for, not only was he a friend of Smiler’s, but the more Mr. Hill talked with him the more he believed him to be a gentleman, as well as an honest, truth-telling lad, who had, by a brave and prompt action, saved the railroad company a large amount of property. He was confirmed in his belief that Rod was a gentleman, by his having asked to be allowed to wash his face and hands before sitting down to dinner. The lad was shocked at his own appearance when he glanced into a mirror, and the superintendent smiled at the wonderful change made by the use of soap, water, and brushes, when he emerged from the well-appointed dressing-room of the car.
While they sat at table Mr. Hill drew the lad’s story from him, including the manner in which he had obtained Smiler’s friendship, and his desire to become a railroad man. Rod did not however mention the name of President Vanderveer; for he was desirous of winning success by himself, and on his own merits, nor did he give his reasons for leaving Euston.
When the locomotive, drawing the superintendent’s private car, and displaying two white flags in front to denote that it was running as an “extra” train, drew up, a couple of hours later, at the Junction, Rod was asked to remain in the car for a few minutes, and Bill was ordered to do so. Then Mr. Hill walked over to caboose number 18, in which, as he expected, he found Conductor Tobin and his two brakemen fast asleep, with bits of mosquito netting spread over their faces to keep off the flies. Conductor Tobin was greatly confused when he discovered who was shaking him into wakefulness, and began to apologize for having been asleep.
“No excuses are necessary, Tobin,” said the other kindly. “A man who works as faithfully as you do at night, has a perfect right to sleep in the daytime. I wouldn’t have disturbed you, but that I wanted to ask if you were acquainted with a young fellow named Rod Blake.”
Yes, indeed! Conductor Tobin not only knew the lad, but was, at that moment, quite anxious concerning him. He had learned by telegraph from Brakeman Joe, further particulars of the occurrences of the preceding night, including Rod’s splendid behavior during the fight with the would-be thieves. Since then nothing had been heard from him, and the conductor greatly feared that the brave young fellow had met with some harm.
“Do you consider him a person whose word is to be trusted?” asked the superintendent.
“Well, sir,” answered Conductor Tobin, “I haven’t known him long, seeing that I first met him only night before last; but I’ve already seen enough of him to be willing to take his word as quick as that of any man living.”
“That is saying a good deal,” laughed the superintendent, “but I believe you are right. If I am any judge of character, that lad is an honest fellow.” Then he explained how, and under what circumstances he had met Rod, and ending by asking, “What sort of a railroad man do you think he would make?”
“First-rate, sir! He seems to me to be one who knows when he is wanted, and who always turns up at the right time.”
“Then you wouldn’t mind having him on your train, while Joe is laid by?”
“I should be proud to have him, sir, and to be the one to start him on the right track as a railroader.”
“Very well, we will consider it settled, then, and I will send him over to you. I want you to do the best you can by him, and remember that from this time on I take a personal interest in his welfare, though of course you needn’t tell him so.”
Rod was more than delighted when Mr. Hill returned to the car, and offered him the position of brakeman on Conductor Tobin’s train. He promptly and gladly accepted it, and tried to thank the superintendent for giving it to him; but that gentleman said: “Never mind expressing any thanks in words. Express them by deeds instead, and remember, that you can win a certain success in railroad life, by keeping on as you have begun and by always being on time.”
Thus Rod secured a position; a humble one to be sure, but one that he had sought and won wholly by merit. When Snyder Appleby heard of it he was filled with jealous anger. He declared that there was not room for both of them on that road, even if one was only a brakeman, and vowed that if he could manage it, his adopted cousin should find it harder to keep his position than it had been to win it.
CHAPTER XVI.
SNYDER APPLEBY’S JEALOUSY
Bill Miner, the tramp, underwent some novel mental experiences on the day that Rod obtained his position. In the first place the young fellow, whom he had treated so badly, came to him while the superintendent was interviewing Conductor Tobin, and said:
“Look here, Bill, you and I suffered a good deal together last night, and you know it was mostly your fault that we did so; but I’ll forgive you for my share of the suffering if you’ll only confess the whole business to the superintendent. He is bound to find out all about it anyway; for he finds out everything; but he’ll think a good deal more of you if you own up like a man. I would like to be your friend; but my friends must be honest fellows, who are willing to work for a living, not tramps and thieves. Now shake hands, and make up your mind to do what I have asked you.”
Mr. Hill’s return interrupted the conversation at this point; but it left Bill in an unusually reflective state of mind. No gentleman, such as his late companion in captivity evidently was, had ever shaken hands with, or asked a favor of him before. In all his hard young life no one had ever proposed that he should try honesty and hard work. Ever since he could remember anything, his associates had advised dishonesty, and the shirking of work in every possible way. Yet, now that he thought of it, he had worked hard, all his life, at being dishonest. Now what had he to show for it? Nothing but rags, and poverty, and a bad reputation. He wondered how it would seem to be honest, and do honest work, and associate only with honest people. He had half a mind to try it, just out of curiosity. The idea of he, Bill the tramp, being an honest workman, and perhaps, even getting to be called “Honest Bill,” struck him as so odd that he chuckled hoarsely over it.
“What are you laughing at?” demanded the brakeman who stood on the rear platform of the car to prevent his escape, and who looked suspiciously in at the door to discover the meaning of this novel sound from his prisoner.
“Nothing,” replied Bill.
“Well, I wish I could get so much fun out of nothing as you seem able to,” said the brakeman, who was particularly down on tramps. “I reckon the super’ll give you something to laugh about directly that won’t seem so funny,” he added significantly.
But Bill did not mind this. He was too busy with his own thoughts. Besides he was used to such speeches, and was also listening to something else just at that moment. He was listening to the conversation between Rod and the superintendent. It certainly was a fine thing for a boy to be talked to as the greatest man he had ever known was now talking to his one honest friend, and to be offered such a position too. How he would like to be a brakeman; and, if he were one, how well he would know how to deal with tramps. He wondered what Mr. Hill meant by being “on time.” Perhaps it meant being honest.
Then Rod left the car, giving him a nod and a smile as he did so. A moment later it was again whirling away toward New York, and the superintendent, coming to where the young tramp was sitting, said: “Now, sir, I’m ready to attend to your case. Are you willing to tell me what you know about this business of robbing our freight trains? Or do you prefer to stick to your lying story and go to prison for it?”
“I’ll tell you all I know, if you’ll give me a job for it,” answered Bill, with a sudden resolution to try for Rod Blake’s friendship, and at the same time to make a good bargain for himself if he could.
Regarding him keenly, the superintendent said: “So you want to be paid for being honest, do you? Well, I don’t know but what you are right. Honesty is well worth paying for. So, if you will tell me, truthfully, all you know of this business I promise you a job that will earn you an honest living, and that you can keep just so long as you work faithfully at it.”
“Honesty again. How often these gentlemen use the word, and how much they seem to think of it,” thought Bill. However, as it seemed to promise something different from anything he had ever known, he determined to try it, and see what it would do for him. So he told, in his awkward fashion, all that he knew of the gang of tramp thieves, who had been for some time systematically robbing freight trains at several points along the road, and Mr. Hill listened to him with the deepest interest.
As a speedy result of this confession a freight clerk in the main office of the company, who had been giving secret information to the thieves, was discharged the very next day. Brown, the chief of the company’s detectives, learned where and how he could discover the places where the stolen goods were hidden, and was thus enabled to recover a large portion of them. And Bill Miner, no longer Bill the tramp, found himself doing honest work, as a locomotive wiper and assistant hostler, in a round house, at a salary of one dollar and twenty-nine cents per day.
Certainly Rod Blake’s influence was being felt on the New York and Western railroad.
After his conversation with Bill, the busy superintendent found time to stop his flying car at the station where Brakeman Joe lay suffering from his wounds, to speak a few kindly words to the faithful fellow, praise his bravery, and assure him that his full pay should be continued until he had entirely recovered from his injuries and was able to resume duty.
Late that afternoon the private car finished its long journey in the station at the terminus of the road, and Mr. Hill hastened to his own office. The moment he opened the door of the inner room a cloud of cigarette smoke issued from it, and a frown settled on his face as he hesitated a moment on the threshold. His private secretary, who had been comfortably tilted back in the superintendent’s own easy chair, puffing wreathes of smoke from a cigarette, started to his feet. “We did not expect you to return so soon, sir”—he began.
“Evidently not,” interrupted Mr. Hill dryly; “You are the young man recommended to me by President Vanderveer, I believe?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, sir, you will please to remember for the future, that neither in this office, nor in any other belonging to the company, is cigarette smoking among the qualifications required of our employees. If you must smoke during business hours, I will endeavor to fill your position with somebody who is not under that necessity.”
For the next half hour Snyder Appleby sat at his own desk, for once in his life hard at work, and feeling that he had been decidedly snubbed if not actually insulted. He was even meditating the handing in of his resignation, when the superintendent again addressed him, but this time in a much more friendly tone.
“You are from Euston, I believe?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you happen to know a young man from there named Rodman Blake?”
“Yes, sir. I have an acquaintance there of that name,” replied Snyder hesitatingly, and wondering what possible interest the “super” could have in Rod Blake. “The fact is,” he added with an assumed air of frankness, “the young person in question is a sort of adopted cousin of my own; but circumstances have arisen that lead me to consider him an undesirable acquaintance.”
“What are they?” inquired the superintendent bluntly.
“It would hardly be becoming in me to state them,” replied Snyder, wishing he knew why the other was making these inquiries. “I should be very sorry to say anything that might injure the young man’s future prospects.”
“Had they anything to do with his leaving Euston, and seeking employment on this road?”
“Yes, sir; I think they had,” admitted Snyder with apparent reluctance.
“Then I consider it your duty to tell me what they are,” said Mr. Hill; “for I have just given young Blake the position of brakeman, and if there is any reason why he is unfit for it I should like to know it.”
This aroused all the jealousy in Snyder’s nature and he answered: “Well, sir, if you put it in that light, I suppose I must tell you that Blake’s uncle, with whom he lived, turned him from the house without a penny in his pocket on account of his connection with a most infamous piece of rascality. But I beg that you will not question me any further on the subject. It is most painful to me to speak of even a distant connection in the terms I should be obliged to use in referring to Rodman Blake. President Vanderveer knows the whole history of the affair, and can give you full information regarding it.”
“The President has gone West on a business trip that will occupy some weeks,” replied Mr. Hill, “so I could not ask him even if I were inclined to trouble him with so trifling a matter. I shall certainly investigate it, however, and if I find this young Blake to be a person of such a character as you intimate, I shall as certainly discharge him.”
