CHAPTER VIII
A CLASH OF AUTHORITY
When Zeph Dallas showed himself in Ralph’s office about noon the latter had several points which he could lay before the enthusiastic amateur sleuth.
“But you musn’t go it alone any longer, Zeph,” the young train dispatcher said. “There’s something going to break soon, and Mr. Adair will want to know all you get wise to, and as fast as you discover it. What do you suppose he sends you roosters out along the line for, your health?”
Zeph grinned. “I know he is combing every division for information regarding a possible strike. The Great Northern doesn’t want to bring in a private detective agency with their guards if it can be helped. I know.”
“All right—you know so much! Listen to this,” and Ralph told him of his discovery through the aid of the old timekeeper. “And now here is this man who was with Andy McCarrey last night.”
“Who’s that? Whitey Malone? I just saw him, sobered up, but with two beautiful black eyes.”
“We never gave him those,” declared Ralph. “I bet McCarrey pitched into him for losing the list Perrin sent by him. Well, that other man I heard McCarrey call ‘Grif’ must be Griffin Falk, and he acts as McCarrey’s secretary, or right-hand man. Mac is no literary character. He can talk, but the words have to be put into his mouth. They say Grif writes his speeches and handles all his correspondence.”
“Then we know quite some to tell Mr. Bob Adair,” said Zeph, with satisfaction.
“You are right we do. Here is this list. I have written beside Perrin’s writing the full names of the four men and what they do in the shops and how they stand in the union. They will have to be watched from now on. Well, it is nothing in my young life. I am going to tend to my knitting and keep out of any trouble, that’s all.”
Zeph fairly giggled. “I hear you,” he said. “But you won’t be able to sit up in this conning tower of yours and calmly watch a ruction down below without getting into it, and getting in with both feet.”
“No, no! Nothing like that,” declared Ralph, smiling and shaking his head as his friend departed.
The young train dispatcher really meant what he said. He hated to see things going wrong for the division—for the whole Great Northern system, in fact. But he had his job, and his place in the railroad system, and he did not mean to step aside.
He considered himself quite invulnerable where he sat. He was independent of everybody save his good friend, Glidden, at main headquarters. As long as he managed to drive through his schedules with some kind of regularity, Ralph felt that nobody could actually hurt him with the company.
But not long after luncheon one of the callboys came to the door of his little private office and said:
“Mist’ Hopkins wants you, Mist’ Fairbanks. Just told me. Right now.”
“Wants me?” queried Ralph, in more surprise than apprehension. “The super?”
“Yep. Bet you he’s got some new way for you to run the trains. Two on the same track, mebbe, to save wear on the iron,” and the saucy youngster went away, chuckling.
That is the way the entire force was considering the supervisor. Not even the callboys had proper respect for the bothersome official.
Ralph hesitated a little before responding to the request of Mr. Hopkins. Hopkins had absolutely no authority over the train dispatcher’s department. In fact, the divisional officers took orders, to a degree, from the train dispatchers. For that department “lapped over” onto the main and other divisions of the Great Northern. Ralph had to handle trains to and from the other divisions of the system.
So he hesitated about answering the call to Mr. Hopkins’ office. Any other man in Hopkins’ place would have come to Ralph’s room and said his little say, whatever it was. The day when a supervisor could call a train dispatcher to account was long since past in railroading.
Ralph looked over what was being done in his outer office before descending the flight to the supervisor’s room. It was at the busiest time of the day and the young chief dispatcher kept his eye constantly on what was going on during every afternoon. He had his best men on duty at night.
Hopkins was drumming impatiently on his desk with a pencil when Ralph entered. The latter secretly wished to tell him that that drumming was “waste energy.” But the supervisor’s face did not encourage any expression of humor.
“I have been waiting for you, Mr. Fairbanks,” he said sharply.
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.”
“And a little of the interest of Ralph Fairbanks at heart,” returned the young fellow angrily. “Why, what chance would I have for any freedom? I come down at nine now and go away at five. Why should I go back to the key during the dog watches?”
“If you will do so I can show you how you may get rid of one operator.”
“I don’t wish to get rid of one operator. I ought really to have another. Let me remind you, Mr. Hopkins, the strain on a train dispatcher and his assistants, especially under the schedules we have to make on this division just now, is something fierce! You don’t know what you are talking about, Mr. Hopkins.”
“I know exactly what I am talking about, young man,” said the supervisor grimly, and those eyeglasses of his seemed fairly to sparkle. “I am pointing out to you a way in which you can save the road one man’s salary——”
“Tell that to the stockholders—don’t tell it to me!” cried Ralph angrily. “If I can find some way of making them see at headquarters that I need another man, I am going to do so. I know what is needed in my department. You don’t. Keep your hands off!”
Hopkins spoke again before the train dispatcher reached the door.
“You would better consider my offer of advice, Fairbanks,” and his voice was like ice. “I give you a chance, first.”
“To whom will you give the second chance?” demanded Ralph, looking back at him.
“I shall place my advice before the proper authorities. They have hired me to make this division efficient in every way. I do not like to go over your head——”
“Don’t let that bother you,” answered Ralph. “I shall not hold it against you, Mr. Hopkins, if you manage to take your ideas before a special meeting of the board. Nobody save John Glidden is going to give me my orders. You may as well understand that right now. Good-day!”
He swung out of the room, closing the door with an emphatic bang. He felt a decided warmth of satisfaction because of this throwing of his glove at Mr. Hopkins’ feet. Yet he thought, too:
“Well, that does settle me with Miss Cherry. I am persona non grata there for the rest of the chapter. Humph! What cheek—what cold, brass, gall—that man has!”