The San Francisco call., 1903-09-20

T HERE had been some talk at head
quarters about our conductors. II
was intmated and freely from the
auditing department that the men
OF the punch were not dividing
fairly with the company.
To this effect the general manager wrote
Bucks, superintendent OF the mountain
division Bucks filed the letter away in
the stove. Another communication Jared
no better. But there were some new peo-
pie at headquarters; they had a record to
make and they proposed 20 write part
OF Il on our backs. Bucks got another
letter; he threw it in the stove.
Pat Barlie often and often said he
reeomn.endei - MAJ to drink whisky:
he only recommended the whisky.
recommend no rising railroad man to
burn the third letter on the same sub
sect from his general manager; merely
recommend Bucks. He was at that time
running West End. They had tried run
ming the West End without Bucks a
while; then they had tried again running
Il with him In both instances II was
different.
But the next time the general man
ager was out in his special he spoke
70 Bucks on the subject a= if the men
ton were a virgin touch. Bucks NUT
tered something about the general char
acter OF the trainmen and the decent
lives and habits Of the passenger con-
ductors, and finished with an incidental
expression Of confidence IN the men; that
was about all
But the headquarters people. who were
largely Boston. had ways and means all
their own, and failing TO interest Bucks
IN their hobby, they took a tack like
this:
To begin with the night was bad. "A
holy fright" Pat Francis callel it, and
Pat had seen most OF the bad nights in
the mountains for twenty-five years
steady. 1t was showing and raining and
sIeeting that night. all at once; and blow
ing-it blew the oil out of the guide cups
From the platform Of the Wickiup-nobody
IN the gorge would call it a depot-from
the Wickiup platform at Medicine Bend
no. 1 seemed to roll into division that
night one reeking sheet Of alkah ice
soda and frost solid from lamp to lamp.
She was late. too, with a pair of the
best engines thar ever climbed a noun
tain heading her. She had lost time
every mile Of the way from the plains.
and she was ordered west with another
6ouble-head and a pusher all the way
over the Horseback. It was because there
was a Yellowstone excursion aboard
The Columbian Pacific connection was on
that account especially desired; and that
night at y o'clock. mountain time, wi h
No. l especially late into the bend, and
the track especially had, and the pull
especially heavy. ii lOoked-that Colum-
ian Pacific Onnection-especially doubt
ful, except over in the dispatcher's Of
fee. where they were being pounded to
make II by the excursion bureau.
Bucks was down that night. There
were many bad nights in the mountains,
but Bucks never missed any Of them by
going to bed. On bad nights, Bucks. like
a switchman's pipe. was always out. He
-Bucks-personally appeared at the
Wickiup 70 see that things went. The
men liked him because he was always
ready 10 GO anything he asked them
20 DO. There was an esprit. a morale
whatever you call it-and a loyalty TO
Bucks personally, which made our men
take the chances that pay checks don't
cover.
So. although the Columbian Pacific con-
nection looked especially doubtful that
night, nevertheless there was Bucks, un-
der a slouching Stetson and an Irish
frieze that caught all the water coming
its way, standing at the drivers OF the
head engine, while Jack Moore in leather
heel to jaw. went into the slush~ under
her to touch up an eccentric with a repu-
tation for cussedness in a pinch. And a
minute later Bucks was walking back TO
figure with the out conductor, Pat Fran
els, bow TO make schedule across to Wild
Hat, though, they talked, each man
knew the other was not thinking at all
OF how 10 make schedule, but thinking
though never a word out loud Of IT, and
hell TO face all the way up the gorge on
top OF it-of how-wfth flesh and blood
and steel to beat schedule that night and
land the uncertain connection, in spite of
wind and weather and the bureaus fears
and the dispatcher's growls
And all this for what? To dunn a
hundred or two Brooklyn people into the
Yellowstone twenty-four hours earlier
than they otherwise would have been
dumped, though without doubt they would
have been just that much better OF loaf
ing twenty-four hours longer away from
their newspapers and ferries and street
cars. Pat Francis listened grimly. "A
short, stocly fellow, Pat Francis. Not
fat, but firm as Bessemer bar, and with
considerably quicker play in his joints }