The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1921-06-17

Bullock.
l suppose it was up to me to go to
bed 1t was late enough, in all con-
science and nobody knew better than
l did the early-rising. early-office-
opening habits of Mr.. Graham Nor
cross, G. NJ. Just the same, after
had marked that Mr.. CollingwoOd's
room-key was still in it's box, went
over to a corner of the lobby and sat
down, determined to keep my eyes
open, if such thing were humanity
possible. until our rounder should
show up.
Finally my patience, or whatever
you care to call it, was rewarded.
Just after the baggage porter had fin
ished sing-songing his call for the
night express westbound, my man came
in on the run.
When he rushed over to the counter
and began to talk fast to the night
clerk, l wasn't very far behind him.
He was telling the clerk to get his
grips down from the room, adjectively
quick. While the boy was gone for
the grips, my mar made a straight
shoot for the bar, and when l next
got sight of him-from behind one
of the big onyx-plated pillars of the
bar-room colonnade-he was pouring
neat liquor down his throat as if 1t
were water and he on fire inside.
That was about all there was to 1t.
BY the time Collngwood got back to
the clerks counter, the boy was down
with the bags. Collingwood looked up
sort of nervously at the big clock, and
paid his bill. And while the clerk
was getting his change, he grabbed
the pen out of the counter inkstand,
and made out as if he was shading in
a picture, or something, on the open
register.
A half-minute later he was gone.
When the taxi purred away l turned
to the open register to see what our
maniac had been drawing in it. What
he had done was completely to OBJ
literate his signature. He had scratched
it over until the past master Of all
the handwriting experts that ever
lived couldn't have told what the name
was.
1t was while we were eating break
fast the next morning in the Billiard
cafe-the boss and THAT we got our
first news of the Petrolite wreck. The
story was red-headlined in the Morn
ing Herald-the Hatch-Owned paper
and besides being played up good and
strong in the news columns, there was
an editorial to back the front-page
scream.
At two o'clock in the morning a
fast westbound freight had left the
track in Petrolite Canyon, and before
they could get the flagman out, a de-
layed eastbOund passenger had col
lided with the ruins. There were no
lives lost, but number of people.
including the engineman, the postal
clerks and the baggageman on the pas
senger, were injured.
The editorial, commenting on the
wire stuff, was sharply critical Of the
Short Line management. 1t limited
thing as discipline on the road since
Mr.. Shaffer had left it; that the rank
and file was running things pretty
much as it pleased; and with this
there was dig at general managers
who let old and time-tried depart
ment heads go to make room for their
rich and incompetent college friends
which was meant to be slap at Mr..
Van Britt, our own and only mil
lionaire.
Unhappily, this fault-fnding had a
good bit to build on, in one way. AS
l have said, we were having operat-
ing troubles to beat the band. With
the rank and file apparently doing it's
level best to help out in the new
"pubic-be-pleased" program, 1t seemed
as if we couldn't worry through a
single week without smashing some
thing.
Latterly, even the newspapers that
were friendly to the Norcross manage
ment were beginning to comment ON
the epidemic of disasters, and nothing
Al iiiS "Oiiu Jul llic pOSo putty VI
taking all the editors into his con.
fidence when they wanted to in
vestigate kept the rising storm of
criticism somewhere within bounds.
Mr.. Norcross had read the paper
before he handed it over to me. and
afterward he hurried his breakfast a
little. When he reached the office, Mr..
Van Britt was waiting for the chief.
We've got it in the neck once
MORE" he gritted, flashing up his own
copy of the Herald. did you read
that editOrial?"
"Never mind the newspaper talk.
How bad is the trouble this timer"
pretty bad. The freight is prac-
tically total loss; good half of it
is in the river. Kirgan says he can
pick the freight engine up aud re-
build it; but the passenger machine is
a wreck"