The Young Train Master

by Burton Egbert Stevenson

“Now, I’m going to give it to you fellers straight,” continued Nixon. “You need it. You’ve been makin’ a little tin god of this feller and he ain’t worth it. Now my advice to you is, drop him. Kick him out. At any rate, the grand lodge won’t back you up if you try to call a strike about this, and you know what that means. It means that your charter will be taken away from you and the lodge disbanded. The grand lodge will see every time that you get your rights, but it won’t back you up when you’re as clearly in the wrong as you are now. Why, to call a strike for a thing like that would be suicide. Let me tell you boys something—you’ll never win any strike unless you have the public with you. If the public’s against you, sooner or later you’ll be going back to work like whipped curs—an’ you’ll be lucky if you kin get your old jobs. An’ I guess that’s all,” he concluded, mopping his forehead with his handkerchief.

Then his eyes rested on three men who had been gradually working their way toward the stage, and he caught his breath sharply. But in an instant, by a mighty effort, he had recovered his self-control.

“Boys,” he said, “here’s Mr. Schofield himself. I’m glad he’s with us. I want to say that I’ve found him a square man.” There was a little flutter of applause at this, for most of them had themselves found him to be a square man. “We would all be glad to have Mr. Schofield address us a few words,” added Nixon, but he glanced at the superintendent apprehensively, as the latter, in response to the invitation, stepped with alacrity upon the platform.

“Yes,” said Mr. Schofield, turning and facing the expectant audience, “I want to say a few words to you. I have heard what Mr. Nixon has been saying—I have listened to him with great pleasure. For I believe that what he has told you is true—in the first place, that the road was right in discharging Bassett and in refusing to reinstate him, and in the second place that no strike can succeed unless it has the public behind it.”

Here he glanced at Nixon, who had seated himself in the president’s chair and who was nodding from time to time, as Mr. Schofield proceeded, every trace of apprehension banished from his countenance.

“But before I go further,” Mr. Schofield continued, “I ought, perhaps, to apologize for my presence here. I had intended, of course, to ask permission to enter, but there wasn’t anybody at the door, nor anybody to ask, so I just came in. I ask permission now.”

“That’s all right,” shouted one of the men, “go ahead,” and it was evident from their smiling faces that everyone present concurred in the invitation.

“Thank you,” said Mr. Schofield. “And now,” he continued, more seriously, “I have something to say to you. As I said, I was glad to hear Mr. Nixon’s sentiments and to see that, on the whole, you agreed with him. I certainly think that the road was right in the stand it took, and I believe all of you will agree with me when you think it over. You have always found the road ready to meet you half way in any reasonable demand, but we’ve got to maintain discipline or quit business. And, after all—and here I’m talking very frankly to you—it’s we who are running the road and not you. Of course, if you don’t like the job, you can quit it—we don’t quarrel with that; but, if you are really fair-minded, you will see our side, too, which is that if you break the rules, you must take the consequences. When you take employment with the road, you agree to obey the rules, and you can’t object if the road holds you to the bargain.”

The superintendent was evidently carrying the crowd with him, and he paused a moment before launching his bombshell. Should he launch it, he asked himself, or should he let well enough alone? There would be no strike, everything had been quietly smoothed over. Nixon had carried out his agreement. Was it not wiser to stop now and let affairs take their course? Then the remembrance of Allan West’s flushed and indignant face rose before him and he nerved himself to go on.

“So I was interested to hear Mr. Nixon’s opinions,” he said, slowly, “and I thought you might be interested in knowing how Mr. Nixon arrived at them.”