“Jest this,” said Jack; “before a feller’s fit to hold a job in th’ offices,—a job as operator or despatcher, that is,—and work one o’ them little wires, he’s got t’ know th’ road better’n he knows th’ path in his own back yard. He’s got t’ know every foot of it—where th’ grades are an’ how heavy they are; where th’ curves are, an’ whether they’re long or short; where every sidin’ is, an’ jest how many cars it’ll hold; where th’ track runs through a cut, an’ where it comes out on a fill; where every bridge and culvert is—in fact, he’s got t’ know th’ road so well that when he’s ridin’ over it he kin wake up in th’ night an’ tell by th’ way th’ wheels click an’ th’ cars rock jest exactly where he is!”
At the moment Allan thought that Jack was exaggerating; but he was to learn that there was in all this not the slightest trace of exaggeration. And he was to learn, too, that upon the accuracy of this minute knowledge the safety of passenger and freight train often depended.
They sat on the porch again that evening, while Mary rocked Mamie to sleep and Jack smoked his pipe. Always below them in the yards the little yard-engines puffed up and down, placing the cars in position in the trains—cars laden with coal and grain for the east; cars laden with finished merchandise for the west; the farmer and miner exchanging his product for that of the manufacturer.
Only there was no Reddy to come and whistle at the gate, and after awhile they walked over to his house to find out how he was.
Mrs. Magraw let them in. Her stout Irish optimism had come back again, for Reddy was better.
“Though he’s still a little quare,” she added. “He lays there with his oies open, but he don’t seem t’ notice much. Th’ docther says it’ll be a day or two afore he’s hisself ag’in.”
“Well, I’m glad it’s no worse,” said Jack. “We can’t afford to lose Reddy.”
“We won’t lose him this trip, thank God!” said Mrs. Magraw. “Mr. Schofield was over jist now t’ see if they was anything he could do. He says th’ road’ll make it all roight with Reddy.”
“That’s good!” said Jack, heartily; “but we won’t keep you any longer, Mrs. Magraw,” and he and Allan said good night.
“We must be gittin’ t’ bed ourselves,” Jack added, as they mounted the path to his home. “Remember, we have t’ git up at midnight. It’s good an’ sleepy you’ll be, my boy!”