The Railroad Problem

e engineer one instantly links responsibility. And I think that in a preceding chapter I showed you with some definiteness that responsibility is never far from the engine cab. Wi

me, I shall try to show you an unorganized worker whose responsibility is quite as constant and as great as that of the men in the engine cab. This man is the one who makes the path for the locomotive safe-he is the track foreman, or section-boss. An

in the engine cab, no skill, no sagacity, no reserve force, is going to compensate for a neglected track. A single broken rail may send the best-driven locomotive in the world i

ctor in the comfort and the safety of your trip; could understand more fully the difficulties of his work. First you would have to understand that from the very hour the railroad is completed it requires constant and exacting care to keep it from quick deterioration. Continual strains of the traffic and the elements, seen and unseen, are wearing it out. Temperature, wind, moisture, friction, and chemical action are doing their best to tear

a zero day a few winters ago and broke so many rails that it was necessary to tie up th

even the spikes, must be in absolute order or something is going to happen, before long, to some train that goes rolling over them. A large percentage of railroad accidents, charged to the account of the failure of mechanism, i

f 400,000 of his fellows who make the track safe for you. The brigadiers general of this sturdy corps of railroaders are the engineers of the maintenance of way. A very large road will boast several executives of this title, reporting in all probability to a chief engineer of maintenance.

ne hundred miles of single-track-much less in the case of double-or three-or four-track railroads. The section has its own lieutenant-section foreman he is rated on the railroad's pay-roll; but in its lore he will ever be the section-boss, a

four or six or eight workers-perhaps an assistant of some sort or other. Over him are the supervisors and above them those smart young engineers who can figure out track with lines

s of which are marked Technical Education. He can be a supervisor at from $90 to $125 a month and ride up and down the division at the rear door of a local train six days a week; the time has gone when he might advance to the proud title of roadmaste

raged. It is not his way.

e asks. "G

t, save for the chattering of the crickets and the distant call of your train which has gone a-roaring down the line. The August day is indolent-but the section gang is not. The temperature is close

ECTIO

vested the responsibility of maki

en locomotive into the ditch-a mas

here. We're only single-track as yet on this division; but next summer we'll be getting eastbound and westbound, and then a bigger routing of the through stuff. Tonight the

r job," you

seven miles long and has more kinks

admit that it looks just like any other splice-bar that you have ever seen; but th

r did that. We've got to look out for it

o ask him how he kno

nsible for the

of emergency repair you can think of-and then some more-on telegraph wires, culverts, signals, and the interlocking. We've got to know the time card and keep out of the way of the regular trains. Every little w

s?" you

a little

over seven cows, two sheep, and a ho

er which the general manager at headquarters has been sending out

venue for the company tomorrow. Have you ever thought of cultivating the farmer as he is cultivating the fields? A friendly chat over the fence, a wave of the hand

the opportunities of the station agent in this wise are particularly large. And there is a good deal of

versation, nor do we. We'll wave the hand all right-but a chat over the fence? Along would come my supervisor and I might have a time of it explaining to him that I was trying to sell two tickets to California for the road. No, s

t ti

tch of sleep and without getting out of my clothing-and that was both accident and storm. It's storm that counts the most. It's nice and pretty out here today, even if a little warmis

en a few Englishmen. The Italians began coming over in droves a little more than a quarter of a century ago and almost the first men they displaced were the Irish trackmen on our railroads. Perhaps it would be fairer to say they took the

of the men from the north of Europe. Even the better grades of Italians have begun to turn from track work. They, too, make good contractors and politicians and lawyers. In the stead of these have come th

he fails. And a distinct factor in the run-down condition of so many of our second-and third- and fourth-grade railroads is not alone their financial condition, to which we already have referred, but quite as much their utter inability to summon track labor at any price within their possibility. It is rather difficult, to say the least, to get a section foreman at three dollars

recently, have been other factors against a stout union of the trackmen. But the mixture of tongues and races has been the chief objection. You do not find Italians or Slavs or Poles or Greeks on the throttle side of the locomotive cab or wearing the conductor's uniform in passenger service, although you will find t

ry in Europe, within three or four generations at the longest? We have shown that responsibility is not a matter of color, of race, nor of language. And

kept sections. The prizes are substantial. They need to be. With hard work as the seeming reward in this branch of service the railroad, even before the coming of the war, was no longer able to pick and choose from hor

ed to be known along the line, are not now in fashion. And the track supervisor who used to stand on the rear platform of a train and toss out "butterflies" is far mor

men, he has strength and stamina for heavy, sustained work. Moreover, he is built to rhythm. If you can set his work to syncopated time he seems never to tire of it. He is a real artist. He cuts six or eight inches off the handle of his sledge hammer and it

stricts. Thus he may be known as a St. Paul man, a Chicago man, or a Kansas City man, and you may be quite sure that he will venture only a certain limited distance from his fav

than their foremen. Unless the section-boss has had previous experience with hoboes, however, he will

d; so he beats his way slowly home and leaves a record of his migration executed in a chirography that is nothing less than marvelous. The day that masonry went out of fashion in railroad construction and concrete came in was a bonanza to him. On the flat concrete surfaces of bridge ab

sion has been something of a godsend to the railroads beyond the Rocky Mountains. Up in British Columbia, where John Chinaman is not in legal disfavor, you will find him a track laborer-faithful a

ing retentive, he rarely has to be told a thing a second time. Though small, he is robust and possessed of powers of endurance far beyond any other race. Furthermore, he is cleanly-bathing and changing his clothes several times a week. His camp is always sanitary and he prid

y way. These are the Hindus. They have drifted across the Seven Seas and marched into a new land through the gates of San Francisco or Portland or Seattle.

body, his hands, and his mind; the men under his authority are more apt to be inefficient than efficient; his responsibility is unceasing. It is not an easy job. And for it he is paid from sixty-five to ninety dollars a month-rarely more. A locomotive engineer i