About the yards, too, everything was moving as usual, and Allan began to wonder if he were the only one to whom the coming hours seemed threatening and full of menace. He might almost have fancied he had dreamed the whole thing but for the patrol on duty before the freight-house. At his desk, he made out the detail of crews from among the strike-breakers, using for this purpose the reports which Mr. Round had secured of the past performances and experience of the strangers. These reports were anything but trustworthy, since they had come from the men themselves, but they were the only thing to be had, and he made up his lists from them, giving the more important trains to the men who seemed best fitted to handle them. One thing made the task somewhat easier than it would otherwise have been. He knew that for a few days, at least, there would be no need to supply the places of conductors and brakemen; only engineers and firemen had to be provided now, but, even at that, it was with no little uneasiness that he finally passed the list over to his stenographer4 to be copied.
The first important train for which he must supply a crew was Number Three, the west-bound flyer, leaving Wadsworth at 2.30 P. M. As engineer, he had selected a man named Hummel, who, from the report, seemed to have had an exceptional experience. But as the morning progressed, Allan grew more and more uneasy over the prospect5 of choosing the wrong man for this important post, and finally decided6 to have a look at Hummel before announcing the detail. So he called up the freight-house and asked that that individual be sent over to him.
Five minutes later, one of Stanley’s deputies ushered7 into the chief dispatcher’s office a man from whom Allan shrank instinctively8 as from a serpent. He was a thin, undersized fellow, with a face deeply pitted and with the ghastly pallour which smallpox9 sometimes leaves behind it. But it was not the complexion10 so much as the eyes which disgusted and repelled11. It is difficult to describe the effect they produced—they were so venomous, so bloodshot, so reptilian12.
“Is your name Hummel?” Allan asked, speaking with an effort not to show his repulsion.
“Yes, sir.”
“You seem to have had a good deal of experience.”
“Ten years of it,” answered Hummel, confidently.
“What was the trouble?”
“What trouble?” demanded Hummel truculently14.
“How does it come you’re here?”
“Oh! Well, I never got a square deal. I ain’t no bootlicker I guess is the reason.”
There was already a trace of hostility15 in his tone, as though he dimly felt the aversion his appearance had occasioned.
“All right,” said Allan, “that’s all I want to know. Thank you for coming over.”
He turned back to his work, and Hummel, after one venomous glance, stalked out the door. Allan watched him and his guard as they crossed the tracks toward the freight-house; then he reached for his list and scratched out Hummel’s name. But which name should be substituted? He hesitated for a moment and then, snatching up his hat, hastened over to the freight-house himself. Half an hour later he returned, with some little information as to the appearance of the owners of the several names. Fully16 half of them he had checked off as not to be sent out at all, unless it should prove absolutely necessary. From the other half he chose the men who would be needed during the next twenty-four hours.
So the morning passed and noon came, and the great division clock ticked off the seconds as calmly as though this midday was just like any other. To all appearances it was. The first train to start, Number Four, the east-bound flyer, left Cincinnati at 12.15, promptly17 on time. The regular engineer had, of course, failed to report for duty, and when a special man, convoyed by Mr. Schofield, climbed up on the engine, the fireman, as Nixon had predicted, climbed down. Another man was promptly put in his place, and no further disaffection developed, both conductor and brakeman remained on duty, nor did any switchman attempt to interfere with the train as it rolled slowly out of the yards and on to the main track. Mr. Schofield had chosen the best men at his command for this train, and as it passed station after station on time, Allan’s spirits rose perceptibly.
Other trains were started out without misadventure. At Wadsworth, the strike-breakers were convoyed to and from their trains by two of Stanley’s men, the remainder patrolling the yards and keeping them clear of loiterers. It was soon evident, however, that ten men would not be enough to handle this work night and day, and Allan instructed Stanley to swear in ten more deputies.
So the first afternoon passed and the first evening came.
It was a raw and blustery night, very dark, with dashes of sleet18 and snow, and, while everything had passed off serenely19 without sign of trouble, Allan was not wholly at ease as he left his office and started home to supper. In fact, things were too serene, and Allan could scarcely believe that the strikers would permit their places to be filled so quietly. Something of this apprehension20 must have been apparent in his face, as he sat down to supper, for Mamie, who was always quick to note any change in him, looked at him anxiously and started to ask a question, but thought better of it and closed her lips again.
“You’re lookin’ real tired, Allan,” Mary observed.
“He hasn’t come yet. Delayed out on the road somewheres, I reckon. He’s mighty22 uncertain at his meals since he got his promotion23. Here he comes now,” she added, as a heavy foot sounded on the side porch, and the back door opened.
They heard him moving around in the kitchen, evidently washing up after the day’s work. Then he opened the door and came into the dining-room.
“Hello,” he said, nodding all around, and taking his seat. “It’s a bad night for sure. How’s everything goin’, Allan?”
“Oh, all right. We haven’t had a bit of trouble.”
“I judged so,” said Jack, “from the way the trains passed. I was over near Hamden lookin’ after that new switch. I don’t think there’ll be any trouble among the section-men or switchmen, either. They seem t’ think the thing’s a joke.”
“Well, I don’t,” said Allan gloomily. “I think it’s very different from a joke.”
The responsibility of his position was beginning to oppress him. Heretofore there had always been somebody higher up with whom, in any unusual emergency, he could consult. Now, he was thrown entirely24 upon his own resources, and an emergency might arise at any moment which might involve much more than the welfare of the road. Human life might be involved, and law and order—all these might hinge upon a single word, the decision of a moment. If only it might be given him to speak the right word, to decide wisely! He trembled inwardly at thought of the crisis he might be called upon to face.
“I’ve got to go back,” he said, at last, pushing back his chair. “I don’t know how long I’ll be,” he added, “so don’t wait up for me.”
“I’ll go with you,” said Jack, catching25 a telegraphic glance from Mamie and hastily gulping26 down his coffee. “I want to take a look around an’ see how things are.”
“All right,” said Allan, “come along,” and together they went out into the night.
The wind had increased in violence and the weather was turning much colder. They needed all their breath, as they fought their way up the street against the wind. At the freight-shed, Allan paused for a word with one of the guards, who was stamping his feet and clapping his arms against his sides in an effort to keep warm.
“Everything all right?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” answered the guard, recognizing his voice, “everything serene. Not a sign of trouble anywhere.”
“That’s good,” said Allan, and started across the yards.
“I’m goin’ to look around a while,” said Jack. “I’ll look you up in half an hour or so.”
“All right,” said Allan, and continued on to his office, while Jack’s figure vanished instantly in the darkness.
Jack had turned back toward the freight-house, intending to ask a few questions of the guard, but as he passed the platform at the lower end, a voice hailed him.
“That you, Jack?”
“Yes,” Welsh answered, peering around, “but where are you?”
“Down here under the platform,” and as Jack stooped, the odour of tobacco smoke assailed27 his nostrils28.
“Oh, is it you, Reddy?” he asked.
“Yes. Come under an’ set down.”
Jack groped his way under and, guided by the glow of Reddy’s pipe, sat down beside him. The quarters were rather cramped29, but the cold wind did not reach them and so they were fairly comfortable.
“What you doin’ out here?” Jack demanded.
“Oh,” said Reddy, “I got so tired lookin’ at them bums30 in there an’ listenin’ to their big mouths, that I jest had t’ git away by myself an’ have a quiet smoke. Did ye ever wash dishes?”
“Oh, once in a while,” Jack answered, laughing, and getting out his pipe to keep Reddy company.
“Well, it’s a mighty poor way t’ earn a livin’,” said the latter. “If it wasn’t fer Allan, I’d a-thrown up the job afore I took it—but they’s goin’ t’ be trouble.”
“There is? When?”
“Most any time. Them fellers can’t do without whiskey any more’n you kin13 do without air. They’re havin’ a meetin’ about it now.”
“They are? What for?”
“They want t’ go an’ come as they please—between the freight-house an’ them saloons over there. They say they’re bein’ kept prisoners.”
“But that’s all nonsense!”
“Don’t I know it,” said Reddy, scornfully, gazing at the lighted windows across the yards which marked the chief dispatcher’s office. “But any excuse’ll do when a man’s lookin’ fer trouble. I guess the strikers had a pointer this was comin’—that’s the reason they’ve been so quiet.”
“You mean you think there’s somebody tippin’ things off to them?”
“Yes; but I ain’t dead sure, yet,” answered Reddy, knocking out his pipe. “drop in here every evenin’ an’ see me, Jack,” he added. “I’d like t’ talk things over with ye. I must be gittin’ back. Hello, there goes the messenger,” he went on, as a figure strode from the freight-shed across the yards. “Good-night.”
“Good-night,” Jack answered, and he sat watching the messenger. He saw him mount the stair that led to the division offices, and, a few minutes later, saw him come down again, accompanied by Allan West. He watched them cross the yards towards him, and mount the platform, heard a door open and shut, and all was still.
“If I could only help!” he murmured to himself, with drawn31 lips. “But I can’t—I can’t! An’ it’s a hard fight!”
Meanwhile, inside the freight-house a queer scene was enacting32. As must be the case when any body of men are thrown together, a leader had developed, or had arrogated33 to himself the rights of leadership. In this instance, the leader, strangely enough, was not one of the larger or older men, but a small fellow whose livid pock-marked face and shifty eyes told of life in city slums and not in God’s open air—told, too, of a soul as well as body infected—in a word, Hummel. The personnel of the men had changed somewhat during the afternoon. Ten or twelve crews had been sent out, and as many had come in, but there was still present a majority of those who had arrived the night before. Hummel, of course, had been assigned to no run, and those that remained with him were the undesirables34, the ones against whose names Allan had placed a check-mark. Among these, Hummel had been working quietly all day, talking to them first singly, then in groups of two and three, and finally, when they had finished supper, he had spoken out boldly.
“I don’t know how you fellers feel about it,” he said, getting to his feet and pounding on the table to attract their attention, “but I feel a good deal as though I was in a lock-up. Oh, I ain’t no hypocrite—I knows how a lock-up feels, and I guess I ain’t the only one here as does. But I didn’t hire out to this here road t’ be locked up, an’ I won’t stand it. This is a free country—”
“Now, see here, brother,” interposed Stanley, who had come hurrying up, “you ain’t locked up, an’ you know it. We’re treatin’ you right. We’re givin’ you good grub an’ a good bed an’ we’ve got a lookout36 jest to make sure you ain’t interfered37 with.”
“You sure can.”
“An’ come back if I want to?”
“No,” said Stanley, sweetly. “You can’t come back. If you go out, you lose your job.”
“That’s it!” shouted Hummel, banging the table again. “We kin go out, but we can’t come back! Why can’t we come back?”
“You’ll have to ask Mr. West,” replied Stanley.
“Who’s he?”
“He’s the chief dispatcher, and in charge here.”
“That kid what sent for me this mornin’?”
“The same. But he ain’t a kid an’ I’d advise you not to monkey with him.”
“Pooh!” said Hummel, contemptuously. “I guess I kin hold my own with a purty boy like that. Where is he?”
“I’ve sent for him. He’ll be here in a minute,” and indeed, even as he spoke35 the words, Allan entered.
Hummel, thoroughly39 angry, looked Allan up and down with a single glance of the eye, and continued to stare at him impudently40 as he approached.
“What’s the trouble, Stanley?” Allan queried, for he had heard Hummel’s excited voice as he opened the door.
“Oh, I guess this feller has gone without booze about as long as he can stand it,” answered Stanley, with a wave of his hand toward the white-faced protestant. “He wants to go out an’ git some, I reckon.”
“That’s a lie!” shouted Hummel, waving his arms in the air. “All I want is my rights as a free American citizen. You can’t work no peonage racket on me. You can’t keep me a prisoner—”
“Nobody wants to,” broke in Allan. “Take your coat and hat and get out.”
“And I will come back—”
“No, you won’t—you’re fired. Get out.”
“When do I get my wages?”
“Next payday—in about three weeks.”
“That’s justice, ain’t it! I kin afford t’ loaf around here three weeks, can’t I, t’ git one day’s pay!”
“Leave your address and the check will be sent you,” said Allan.
But that was just what Hummel could not do, for he had no idea where he would be in three weeks. Besides, a glance around at the faces of his companions showed him that he was going too fast—that he had not secured their sympathy.
“All right,” he said, after a moment, controlling himself by a mighty effort. “I guess I kin stand it awhile longer. I just wanted t’ be sure you weren’t tryin’ to keep us prisoners. I’ll stay.”
“No, you won’t,” retorted Allan, promptly. “I’ve already told you you’re fired. Now get out, or I’ll have Stanley throw you out. I guess you can do it, can’t you, Stanley?”
“Try me,” said Stanley, grinning down from his six feet upon the little man before him. “Say the word.”
But Hummel didn’t wait for that. With one glance at the big officer, he turned to the wall and took down his overcoat from a hook where he had hung it. His face was livid and his lips were drawn back from his yellow teeth in an ugly snarl41, as he started for the door. Stanley followed him and gave the sentry42 outside word to pass him. Hummel went down the steps silently, save for a queer hissing43 in his throat, and Stanley stood and watched him until he disappeared in the darkness. Then he went slowly back into the freight-shed, his face very grave.
“That fellow means trouble,” he said to himself. “He means trouble. Mebbe I’d ort to run him in.”
Could he have seen Hummel at that moment, he would have been more than ever convinced that he was a dangerous man to be at large. For he had stopped in the shadow of a box-car and waited until Stanley, re-entering the building, closed the door behind him. Then, creeping closer, he concealed44 himself behind a pile of ties. There he sat down, hugging his knees with his arms.
“I’ll git him,” he muttered, over and over to himself. “I’ll git him. Oh, I’ll git him,” and he sat staring at the freight-house door with eyes like a wild beast’s.
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收听单词发音
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1
serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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2
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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3
supplant
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| vt.排挤；取代 | |
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stenographer
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| n.速记员 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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6
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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7
ushered
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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8
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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9
smallpox
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| n.天花 | |
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10
complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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11
repelled
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| v.击退( repel的过去式和过去分词 )；使厌恶；排斥；推开 | |
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12
reptilian
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| adj.（像）爬行动物的；（像）爬虫的；卑躬屈节的；卑鄙的n.两栖动物；卑劣的人 | |
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13
kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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14
truculently
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15
hostility
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| n.敌对，敌意；抵制［pl.］交战，战争 | |
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16
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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sleet
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| n.雨雪；v.下雨雪，下冰雹 | |
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19
serenely
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| adv.安详地，宁静地，平静地 | |
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20
apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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21
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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22
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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promotion
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| n.提升，晋级；促销，宣传 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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26
gulping
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| v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的现在分词 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
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27
assailed
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| v.攻击( assail的过去式和过去分词 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
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28
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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cramped
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| a.狭窄的 | |
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bums
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| n. 游荡者，流浪汉，懒鬼，闹饮，屁股 adj. 没有价值的，不灵光的，不合理的 vt. 令人失望，乞讨 vi. 混日子，以乞讨为生 | |
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31
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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32
enacting
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| 制定（法律），通过（法案）( enact的现在分词 ) | |
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33
arrogated
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| v.冒称，妄取( arrogate的过去式和过去分词 )；没来由地把…归属（于） | |
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34
undesirables
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| 不受欢迎的人，不良分子( undesirable的名词复数 ) | |
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35
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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36
lookout
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| n.注意，前途，瞭望台 | |
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37
interfered
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| v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 )；调停；妨碍；干涉 | |
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38
queried
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| v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的过去式和过去分词 )；询问 | |
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39
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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40
impudently
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41
snarl
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| v.吼叫，怒骂，纠缠，混乱；n.混乱，缠结，咆哮 | |
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42
sentry
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| n.哨兵，警卫 | |
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43
hissing
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| n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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44
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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