“But,” musingly inquired Cobb, “is not there a difference in operating the roads? Are not some more expensive to the government than others?”
“Certainly,” answered Rawolle. “But, like postage on letters, a universal rate is found to be the best; the larger and more patronized roads paying the losses incurred by the smaller and country routes.”
“I presume,” said Cobb, “that there can be but few changes in the general management, supervision, etc., of the roads from those in vogue in my time?”
“There you make a mistake,” quickly returned the other; “for, having been connected with the pneumatic lines, I am well posted in what is done to-day and what was the manner of operating railroads during the first part of the twentieth century. Nearly every detail of to-day’s management differs from that in vogue a hundred years ago. It would tire you for me to go into details. A few facts, though, I will give you: All freight is of two classes, and is sent at so much per pound per mile. At the sending point it is stamped similarly to a letter, showing date, place of shipment, destination, etc. The same rule is followed in regard to baggage of individuals, the owner having a duplicate of the stamp placed upon his baggage. There are no tickets shown or taken up on the pneumatic lines, but the names of passengers to depart from the train at intermediate points are telegraphed ahead, and the persons are looked after by the inspectors. On all lines the tracks are double, trains passing but one way on each line of rail. There are no whistles or bells to the locomotives of the service lines; no tender with its coal and water; no cab in the rear for the engineer; no furnace and fireman. The locomotive is an electric one, with the engineer in a cab in front. In place of the huge boilers is an iron and steel tank containing the storage batteries. The whole weight is nearer the rail, thus bringing down the center of gravity and reducing the danger from oscillation.”
As Rawolle was thus enlightening Cobb about the innovations made in the last century, the sleeper door opened, and a trainman entered and walked direct to their section and asked for Mr. Rawolle, saying he had a telegram for him, at the same time handing out the envelope.
Rawolle took it and thanked the man, who then left the car.
“He hit the right man squarely that time!” surprisedly exclaimed Cobb. “They seem to know you here.”
“Not at all,” replied Rawolle, smiling, while he tore open the envelope. “Every person on the train is known by name, and section, and car. Such is the system.”
He opened and read the telegram.
“There!” he exclaimed, after a moment, extending the telegram to Cobb. “There is an order from the Secretary of State to stop at the Central Sea.” And he and Lyman looked quizzingly at their companion, as he slowly took the telegram and read: