Ma Pettengill

by Harry Leon Wilson

Ed noticed that Ben didn't seem to be excited about it the way he had ought to be. He was sympathetic enough for Ed's bone crashes, but he said it was all in the day's work for a railroad man; and he told Ed about some other accidents that was right in a class along with his and mebbe even a shade better. Ed was peeved at this; so Ben tried to soothe him. He said, yes, indeed, all hands had been lucky—especially the company. He said if them two cars hadn't happened to strike soft ground that took the wheels they'd been smashed to kindling; whereas the damage was trifling. This sounded pretty cold to Ed. He said this railroad company didn't seem to set any exaggerated value on human life. Ben said no railroad company could let mere sentiment interfere with business if it wanted to pay dividends, and most of them did. He said it was a matter of dollars and cents like any other business, and Ed had already cost 'em a lot of good hard cash for doctor's bills. Then he admitted that the accident had been a good thing for him, in a way, he being there on the spot and the first to make a report over to the superintendent at Tekoa.

"I bet you made a jim-dandy good report," says Ed, taking heart again after this sordid dollars-and-cents talk. "It was certainly a fine chance to write something exciting if a man had any imagination. You probably won't have another chance like that in all your career."

"My report pleased the Old Man all right," says Ben. "He's kind of had his eye on me ever since. He said the way I worded that report showed I wasn't one to lose my head and get hysterical, the way he had known some green hands to do."

"I'll certainly have to have a look at that report," says Ed. "Probably you did get a little bit hysterical at that seeing there was lots of excuse for it."

Ben says no, he can't remember that he was hysterical any, because the high-class railroad man must always keep his head in emergencies. Ed says, anyway he knows it must of been a corking good report, and he'll sure have a look at it when he gets to stepping again.

All the same, it begun to look to Ed like his accident wasn't being made enough of. It come over him gradually. Of course he'd got to be an old story round the hospital and people was beginning to duck when he started talking. Then, after he got on crutches he'd hobble about the fatal spot, pointing out his route to parties that would stay by him, and getting 'em to walk over two hundred and thirty-five feet to where he was picked up lifeless. And pretty soon even this outside trade fell off. And right after that he begun to meet new trainmen and others that had never heard a word about the accident and looked at him like they thought he was a liar when he told the details. He was coming to be a grouchy nuisance round Wallace. Even the doctor said he'd be glad when Ed got entirely well again.

Ed couldn't understand it. He must of thought the company should stop all trains for five minutes every day at the hour of his mix-up, or at the very least that the president of the road and the board of directors ought to come down in a special car and have their pictures taken with him; and a brass tablet should be put up on the ice house, showing where his lifeless carcass was recovered. And of course they would send him a solid gold engraved pass, good for life between all stations on all divisions. But these proper attentions was being strangely withheld. So far as Ed could see, the road had gone right on doing business as usual.

He couldn't understand it at all. It seemed like he must be dreaming. He wrote to Ben, who was still up the line, that this here fine report he had made must of got lost; anyway, it seemed like the company had never got round to reading it or they wouldn't have took things so placid. By now he was pinning all his hopes to this report of Ben's if any justice was going to be done him in this world. He'd tell parties who doubted his story that he guessed they'd believe him fast enough if they ever got an eye on Ben's report, which was made on the spot, and was so good a report, though not hysterical, that it had drawn compliments from the division superintendent.

It occurs to him one day that he ought to have a copy of this report if he is ever going to be set right before the world. He suspects crooked work by this time. He suspects mebbe the company is keeping the thing quiet on purpose, not wanting the public to know that such wonderful accidents could happen to its faithful employees. So he talks to Charlie Holzman, the conductor of Number 18, and wants to know would it be possible to sneak this report of Ben's out of the files over at Tekoa. Charlie says that wouldn't be possible, but he's going to lay over at Tekoa the very next night and he'll be glad to make a copy of the report.

Ed says he hates to keep Charlie setting up half the night writing, or mebbe all night, because Ben has told him the report was a good one. Charlie says he'll get help if necessary. Ed says get all the help necessary and he'll pay the bill, and not to leave out even the longer descriptive parts, because if it's as well written as Ben says it is he may have it printed in a little volume for sending round to his friends.