The Young Train Dispatcher

ome four thousand miles of track. Look at it on the map and you will see how it twists and turns and sends off numberless little branches; for a

urg to Moscow, placed a ruler on the map before him and drew a straight line between those cities, a line which

chance of geographical position, to be almost exactly midway between the ends of the division. A hundred miles to the east is Parkersburg, where the road enters the State; a hundred miles to the southwest is

accidents and to make good the constant deterioration of cars and engines through ordinary wear and tear. It is here that the pa

, in the shape of passengers and freight, to the great, insatiable maw. In fact, the system resembles nothing so much as a gigantic cuttle-fish. The resemblance is more than superficial, for, like the cuttle-fis

as and sulphur from the constantly passing engines. The air is full of soot, which settles gently and continually upon the passers-by; and there is a never-ceasing din of engines “popping off,” of whistles, bells, and the rumble and crash of cars as the fussy yard engines sh

furtively, as though fearing to discern or to disclose a smut. Then, strange as it may seem, there are always a number of hangers-on about the place—idlers for whom the railroad seems to possess a curious and ? 4 ? irresistible fascinat

glass covers which are polished until they shine again; the counter, running the whole length of the room, is eroded by much scrubbing as stones sometimes are, and preserves a semblance of whiteness even amid these surroundings. Behind it against the wall stand bottles of olives, pic

re set in motion by a mechanism wound up every morning like a clock; but the motion is so slow, the fans revolve ? 5 ? with such calm and passionless deliberation, that they rather add to the

for sandwiches. He was a master of the art; those slices were of more than paper thinness. It was his peculiar glory and distinction to be able to get

hich their train changes engines, and driven by necessity, must eat here or nowhere. And they usually got a meal of surprising goodness; so good, in fact, that there were and still are many men who willingly plough their way d

constant stream of men pours up and down the long, steep flight of stairs which leads to them. Conductors and engineers must report there and register before they take out a train and as soon as they bring one in;

obedience of orders, or dereliction of duty. Still others, in search of employment, are constantly seeking the same officials, standing nervously before them,

f the division engineer, the division passenger and freight agents, the timekeeper, the division superintendent, the ? 7 ? trainmaster—and dominating them all, the dispatchers’ office, whence come the orders which govern the movements of every t

always the reverse of complimentary. For the dispatchers are the drivers; they crack the whip over the heads of the trainmen by means of terse and perempto

uilding is of an indescribable, sordid dinginess; it is a striking example of that type of railroad economy which forbids the

offices, and, after hesitating an instant at the foot, as though to nerve himself for an ordeal which he dreaded, mounted resolutely step after step. As he pushed open the swinging-door at the top, the clamour of half a dozen telegraph instruments

between the windows looking down over the yards. They glanced up at the sound of

out his hand. “I’m mighty glad to see you.

to the genial gray eyes, and returning t

critically; “but that won’t last long. George,” he added, turning to his companion, “t

eartily. “I’m glad to know you. Mr. Schofield has told us the story of th

ushed with

you,” h

ice-boy,” added Mr. Schofield. “Wh

away,

That will be your desk there in the corner, and your principal business for the present will be to see that each official here gets promptly the correspondence addr

mediately took possession of the p

e addressed to the master mechanic, three to the company’s freight agent, two to the yardmaster, and five or s

e left the office, and then smil

n’t ask a single question; just went ahead and did as h

dispatch

e’ll be a valuable

to this road,” added Mr. Schofi

cceed was due to the ready wit with which the boy had managed to defeat the plan laid by the wreckers, and to the sheer grit which had carried him through a situation of appalling danger. He had barely escaped with his life; he had spent slow weeks recovering from the all-but-fatal bullet-wound he had received there. It was during this period of convalescence, spent at the little cottage ? 11 ? of Jack Welsh, the foreman under whom he had

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