The Man That Corrupted Hadleyburg, and Other Stories
brother-in-law on all the boards--everywhere. It saves me a world of
trouble.'
'It is a good wide relationship.'
'Yes. I have over three hundred of them.'
'Is the relationship never doubted by a conductor?'
'I have never met with a case. It is the honest truth--I never have.'
'Why didn't you let him go ahead and discharge the brakeman, in spite of
your favourite policy. You know he deserved it.'
The Major answered with something which really had a sort of distant
resemblance to impatience:
'If you would stop and think a moment you wouldn't ask such a question
as that. Is a brakeman a dog, that nothing but dogs' methods will do
for him? He is a man and has a man's fight for life. And he always has a
sister, or a mother, or wife and children to support. Always--there are
no exceptions. When you take his living away from him you take theirs
away too--and what have they done to you? Nothing. And where is the
profit in discharging an uncourteous brakeman and hiring another just
like him? It's unwisdom. Don't you see that the rational thing to do is
to reform the brakeman and keep him? Of course it is.'
Then he quoted with admiration the conduct of a certain division
superintendent of the Consolidated road, in a case where a switchman of
two years' experience was negligent once and threw a train off the track
and killed several people. Citizens came in a passion to urge the man's
dismissal, but the superintendent said:
'No, you are wrong. He has learned his lesson, he will throw no more
trains off the track. He is twice as valuable as he was before. I shall
keep him.'
We had only one more adventure on the train. Between Hartford and
Springfield the train-boy came shouting with an armful of literature,
and dropped a sample into a slumbering gentleman's lap, and the man
woke up with a start. He was very angry, and he and a couple of friends
discussed the outrage with much heat. They sent for the parlour-car
conductor and described the matter, and were determined to have the boy
expelled from his situation. The three complainants were wealthy Holyoke
merchants, and it was evident that the conductor stood in some awe of
them. He tried to pacify them, and explained that the boy was not under
his authority, but under that of one of the news companies; but he
accomplished nothing.
Then the Major volunteered some testimony for the defence. He said:
'I saw it all. You gentlemen have not meant to exaggerate the
circumstances, but still that is what you have done. The boy has
done nothing more than all train-boys do. If you want to get his ways
softened down and his manners reformed, I am with you and ready to help,
but it isn't fair to get him discharged without giving him a chance.'
But they were angry, and would hear of no compromise. They were well
acquainted with the President of the Boston and Albany, they said, and
would put everything aside next day and go up to Boston and fix that
boy.
The Major said he would be on hand too, and would do what he could to
save the boy. One of the gentlemen looked him over and said:
'Apparently it is going to be a matter of who can wield the most
influence with the President. Do you know Mr. Bliss personally?'
The Major said, with composure:
'Yes; he is my uncle.'
The effect was satisfactory. There was an awkward silence for a minute
or more; then the hedging and the half-confessions of over-haste
and exaggerated resentment began, and soon everything was smooth and
friendly and sociable, and it was resolved to drop the matter and leave
the boy's bread and butter unmolested.
It turned out as I had expected: the President of the road was not the
Major's uncle at all--except by adoption, and for this day and train
only.
We got into no episodes on the return journey. Probably it was because
we took a night train and slept all the way.
We left New York Saturday night by the Pennsylvania road. After
breakfast the next morning we went into the parlour-car, but found it a
dull place and dreary. There were but few people in it and nothing going
on. Then we went into the little smoking compartment of the same car and
found three gentlemen in there. Two of them were grumbling over one of
the rules of the road--a rule which forbade card-playing on the trains
on Sunday. They had started an innocent game of high-low-jack and had
been stopped. The Major was interested. He said to the third gentleman:
'Did you object to the game?'
'Not at all. I am a Yale professor and a religious man, but my
prejudices are not extensive.'
Then the Major said to the others:
'You are at perfect liberty to resume your game, gentlemen; no one here
objects.'
One of them declined the risk, but the other one said he would like to
begin again if the Major would join him. So they spread an overcoat
over their knees and the game proceeded. Pretty soon the parlour-car
conductor arrived, and said, brusquely:
'There, there, gentlemen, that won't do. Put up the cards--it's not
allowed.'
The Major was shuffling. He continued to shuffle, and said:
'By whose order is it forbidden?'
'It's my order. I forbid it.'
The dealing began. The Major asked:
'Did you invent the idea?'
'What idea?'
'The idea of forbidding card-playing on Sunday.'
'No--of course not.'
'Who did?'
'The company.'
'Then it isn't your order, after all, but the company's. Is that it?'
'Yes. But you don't stop playing! I have to require you to stop playing
immediately.'
'Nothing is gained by hurry, and often much is lost. Who authorised the
company to issue such an order?'
'My dear sir, that is a matter of no consequence to me, and--'
'But you forget that you are not the only person concerned. It may be
a matter of consequence to me. It is, indeed, a matter of very great
importance to me. I cannot violate a legal requirement of my country
without dishonouring myself; I cannot allow any man or corporation to
hamper my liberties with illegal rules--a thing which railway companies
are always trying to do--without dishonouring my citizenship. So I come
back to that question: By whose authority has the company issued this
order?'
'I don't know. That's their affair.'
'Mine, too. I doubt if the company has any right to issue such a rule.
This road runs through several States. Do you know what State we are in
now, and what its laws are in matters of this kind?'
'Its laws do not concern me, but the company's orders do. It is my duty
to stop this game, gentlemen, and it must be stopped.'
'Possibly; but still there is no hurry. In hotels they post certain
rules in the rooms, but they always quote passages from the State law
as authority for these requirements. I see nothing posted here of this
sort. Please produce your authority and let us arrive at a decision, for
you see yourself that you are marring the game.'
'I have nothing of the kind, but I have my orders, and that is
sufficient. They must be obeyed.'
'Let us not jump to conclusions. It will be better all around to examine
into the matter without heat or haste, and see just where we stand
before either of us makes a mistake--for the curtailing of the liberties
of a citizen of the United States is a much more serious matter than
you and the railroads seem to think, and it cannot be done in my person
until the curtailer proves his right to do so. Now--'
'My dear sir, will you put down those cards?'
'All in good time, perhaps. It depends. You say this order must be
obeyed. Must. It is a strong word. You see yourself how strong it is.
A wise company would not arm you with so drastic an order as this, of
course, without appointing a penalty for its infringement. Otherwise it
runs the risk of being a dead letter and a thing to laugh at. What is
the appointed penalty for an infringement of this law?'
'Penalty? I never heard of any.'
'Unquestionably you must be mistaken. Your company orders you to come
here and rudely break up an innocent amusement, and furnishes you no way
to enforce the order! Don't you see that that is nonsense? What do you
do when people refuse to obey this order? Do you take the cards away
from them?'
'No.'
'Do you put the offender off at the next station?'
'Well, no--of course we couldn't if he had a ticket.'
'Do you have him up before a court?'
The conductor was silent and apparently troubled. The Major started a
new deal, and said:
'You see that you are helpless, and that the company has placed you in
a foolish position. You are furnished with an arrogant order, and you
deliver it in a blustering way, and when you come to look into the
matter you find you haven't any way of enforcing obedience.'
The conductor said, with chill dignity:
'Gentlemen, you have heard the order, and my duty is ended. As to
obeying it or not, you will do as you think fit.' And he turned to
leave.
'But wait. The matter is not yet finished. I think you are mistaken
about your duty being ended; but if it really is, I myself have a duty
to perform yet.'
'How do you mean?'
'Are you going to report my disobedience at headquarters in Pittsburg?'
'No. What good would that do?'
'You must report me, or I will report you.'
'Report me for what?'
'For disobeying the company's orders in not stopping this game. As a
citizen it is my duty to help the railway companies keep their servants
to their work.'
'Are you in earnest?'
'Yes, I am in earnest. I have nothing against you as a man, but I have
this against you as an officer--that you have not carried out that
order, and if you do not report me I must report you. And I will.'
The conductor looked puzzled, and was thoughtful a moment; then he burst
out with:
'I seem to be getting myself into a scrape! It's all a muddle; I can't
make head or tail of it; it never happened before; they always knocked
under and never said a word, and so I never saw how ridiculous that
stupid order with no penalty is. I don't want to report anybody, and I
don't want to be reported--why, it might do me no end of harm! No do
go on with the game--play the whole day if you want to--and don't let's
have any more trouble about it!'
'No, I only sat down here to establish this gentleman's rights--he can
have his place now. But before you go won't you tell me what you think the
company made this rule for? Can you imagine an excuse for it? I mean a
rational one--an excuse that is not on its face silly, and the invention
of an idiot?'
'Why, surely I can. The reason it was made is plain enough. It is to
save the feelings of the other passengers--the religious ones among
them, I mean. They would not like it to have the Sabbath desecrated by
card-playing on the train.'
'I just thought as much. They are willing to desecrate it themselves by
travelling on Sunday, but they are not willing that other people--'
'By gracious, you've hit it! I never thought of that before. The fact
is, it is a silly rule when you come to look into it.'
At this point the train conductor arrived, and was going to shut down
the game in a very high-handed fashion, but the parlour-car conductor
stopped him, and took him aside to explain. Nothing more was heard of
the matter.
I was ill in bed eleven days in Chicago and got no glimpse of the Fair,
for I was obliged to return East as soon as I was able to travel. The
Major secured and paid for a state-room in a sleeper the day before we
left, so that I could have plenty of room and be comfortable; but when
we arrived at the station a mistake had been made and our car had not
been put on. The conductor had reserved a section for us--it was the
best he could do, he said. But Major said we were not in a hurry, and
would wait for the car to be put on. The conductor responded, with
pleasant irony: