‘But not too fine, I think. I will report this matter at New Haven, and I have an idea that I’ll be thanked for it.’
The conductor’s face lost something of its complacency; in fact, it settled to a quite sober cast as the owner of it moved away. I said:
‘You are not really going to bother with that trifle, are you?’
‘It isn’t a trifle. Such things ought always to be reported. It is a public duty and no citizen has a right to shirk it. But I sha’n’t’ have to report this case.’
‘Why?’
‘It won’t be necessary. Diplomacy will do the business. You’ll see.’
Presently the conductor came on his rounds again, and when he reached the Major he leaned over and said:
‘That’s all right. You needn’t report him. He’s responsible to me, and if he does it again I’ll give him a talking to.’
The Major’s response was cordial:
‘Now that is what I like! You mustn’t think that I was moved by any vengeful spirit, for that wasn’t the case. It was duty—just a sense of duty, that was all. My brother-in-law is one of the directors of the road, and when he learns that you are going to reason with your brakeman the very next time he brutally insults an unoffending old man it will please him, you may be sure of that.’