“Possibly there has been no final test case. But if such a position as Mr. Vance sets forth is maintained—if the brakeman could recover—then there is no such thing as the domestic trade of a State. Congress may take the entire control of the commerce of the country.”
Bradlee, leaning back in his chair, laid down his knife and fork, and the perfectly cooked bird on his plate was left untasted. His keen blue glance swept across the table to Jack’s face. Jack, bright-eyed, flushed, slashed off a manful bit of partridge and stowed it away before he answered.
“There’s that view of it, sir, of course,” he answered the mighty Howell respectfully but firmly—and Bradlee chuckled. He remembered a fishing lesson up a little lost river and the odd sensation of being talked to as a novice. He wondered how Howell would take these fearless tactics. The lad went on: “But there’s a good deal of authority on the other side. ‘The Constitution gives Congress plenary power to regulate interstate commerce,’ you see—doesn’t it, Judge Carroll? I think that’s a quotation from one of your opinions, sir. And you may use the analogy of the Safety Appliance act—under that it has been held that a railroad wholly within a State, not even touching the boundary line, may be engaged in interstate traffic. Then there was an example—let’s see—what was that?—it was a perfect peach,” mused Jack, and the four dignitaries waited, regarding him seriously. “Oh, yes—I know,” he flashed at them joyfully. “You’ll remember this, of course, Judge Carroll. The Senate was monkeying with the question—I mean to say, the question arose in the Senate. Senator Bacon supposed a case—he said, take a purely local train from Richmond to Alexandria. Clearly that train would not be engaged in interstate commerce. A trainman injured must sue under the Virginia law. Now suppose a man at Orange Court House puts on a box of cigars consigned to Baltimore—does that immediately change the character of the train? After that may a trainman injured sue under the United States act? Senator Dolliver seemed to believe he could.”
With that there was a battle of the gods. Even Bradlee dropped his spectator’s attitude and descended into the arena, for the point was one which held a vital interest for each of the four, and the lad had opened the ball with a dance of distinguished authorities. Moreover, he had the literature of the question at his fingers’ ends, and his shining spear, bright and new, flashed back and forth in the thick of the fray so readily, so accurately, that no thought of difference in age entered the minds of the older men any more than it did his own. It was suggestive of certain remarks of Kipling’s calling attention to the fact that
“There is neither East nor West nor border nor breed nor birth
When two strong men meet face to face, though they come from the ends of the earth.”
So the four captains of industry, men at the very crest of international careers, and the lad not yet at the beginning of his career, bringing only his eager brain and hard-won young knowledge and the tremendous impulse of his enthusiasm, debated together as equals and gave and took pleasure and strength. And the boy soaked in experience and ideas at every delighted pore, till at last the lunch was over, and Jack, due at an engagement, had to leave before the grandees, and stood up to say good-by. In his manly, boyish way he expressed his appreciation of their help, and, as he towered above them all in his young vigor and bright good looks, each one felt, perhaps, that he had unconsciously given as much as he had gotten, and that an impulse of generous new life had swept like a rushing wind into the world-worn minds from his contact.
“I can’t begin to thank you, sir,” he said, his hand in his host’s, and Bradlee’s arm across his shoulder half-caressingly. “I can’t possibly tell you how I’ve enjoyed it. It’s been simply great. I—I’ve never had such a bully time in my life,” he exploded, and the others laughed quiet little laughs of older men, but their eyes were very friendly as they looked at him.
“We shall be interested to hear if you win your case,” the mighty autocrat Howell said. “Bradlee must let us know.”
“Send me a telegram, Jack,” ordered Bradlee.