THE STATION AGENT
He is the human tentacle of the railroad; the flesh-and-blood factor by which it
keeps in touch with many, many thousands of patrons.
Yet the wonder of it is that Blinks endures it all—not only endures but actually thrives under it. In a single hour while you are sitting in his dingy, homy little office just back of the ticket cage, you can see the press of work upon him. He has just finished a four-page report to the legal department, explaining the likelihood of the road’s being able to stave off that demand for an overhead crossing just back of the town; there is a letter on his desk from the general freight agent asking him for a “picture” of the business at Brier Hill, which means a careful analysis of its industries and trade—not an easy job of itself. There is an express package of $25,000 in gold destined to a local bank, over in the corner of the ticket cage. Blinks keeps a bit of watchfulness for that “value package” down in the corner of his mind while a thousand things press in upon it. Number Four is almost within hearing when a young man and his wife appear at the window, baggage in hand, and demand a ticket via Cincinnati, St. Louis, and Sedalia to Muskogee. The young ticket clerk tears madly through a few dozen tariffs, scratches his head blankly—and Blinks has to jump into the breach. In thirty seconds he has the right tariff.
“I think the through one way is thirty-four sixteen,” he smiles at the patrons, “but I had better look up and make sure.”
His memory was right—but Blinks takes no chances.
“Can we get a stop-over at Urbana?” asks the woman.
The station agent dives into a tariff, after a moment nods “yes.”
“Wonder if we could go around by Jefferson City and stop off there?” inquires the man, “I’ve relatives there.”
Blinks starts to say “yes,” then hesitates. Wasn’t there a special bulletin issued by the Missouri Pacific covering that detour? or was it the Katy? He finds his way through twenty or thirty tariff supplements. He knows that if he makes a mistake he not only will be censured, but will probably be forced to make good the mistake from his own pocket—according to the ruling of the Interstate Commerce Law, which he feels is yet to be his nemesis.