“I know; but that theory doesn’t hold good in the psychological field. We’ve got a good set of men, Sprague. To a degree which you don’t often find in modern railroad consolidations, we’ve had that precious thing called esprit de corps. We’ve never had any labor troubles since Lidgerwood’s time, and there are no grievances in the air to account for the present let-down. Yet the let-down is with us. Almost every day some man who has hitherto proved trustworthy falls down on his job, and there you are.”
“You’ve tried all the usual remedies, I suppose?”
“I should say I had! I’ve stormed and cursed and pleaded and reasoned until I’m worn out! If I fire a bunch of them, I have to hire a new bunch, and inside of a week the new men have caught the disease for themselves. One bad wreck will make a hundred trainmen uncertain and jumpy, and a second one will turn half of the hundred into irresponsible lunatics. You’d have to mix and mingle with the force as I do to understand the condition things have gotten into. It’s horrible, Calvin. It is like the black blight that you have seen spread through a well-kept orchard.”
“There is a cause,” said the expert, settling himself solidly in his chair. “I tell you, Dick, there’s a germ in the air, and that second mentality of mine that you are so fond of poking fun at tells me that in the case of your railroad orchard the germ has been deliberately planted. You say it’s impossible: I’ve a good notion to let the soil-testing rest for a few minutes and show you.”
“If I thought there was the least chance in the world that you could show me——”
“Is that a challenge? By Jove! I’ll take you. When can you get me back to Brewster?”
“As soon as the track is cleared. We ought to be able to get through by noon.”
The expert got up, shook the riding kinks out of his legs, and threw the newspaper aside.
“I’m going out to walk around for a bit, and after a while I’ll ask you to take me down to this wreck,” he said; and Maxwell, who had a deskful of work awaiting him, nodded.
“Say, in an hour?”