Adventure, August 1917 — page 76: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

74 his daily car reports and other data, and his daily balances, and weekly and monthly reports to the general offices suddenly de- veloped a singular knack of disappearing —which brought hot protests and rebukes from the offices to which they had been destined. However, Joe Donnelly had not been agent for five years, all for nothing. He knew a thing or two and he was perfectly aware why he was being persecuted. He watched himself closely, conducting his duties with care and discretion. Conse- quently they got nothing on him. Nevertheless it was most unpleasant and, after enduring it for a half year, his con- tempt for such pettiness overcame him arid he asked for a three months’ furlough, hop- ing that things might possibly blow over somewhat in that time in case he returned. But he hardly expected to come back to Maple Creek—not if he could in any way avoid it. He’d hit up some other line for a job. = dent Barnes. He was in a par- ticularly bad humor that afternoon anyway, having been up the biggest part of the preceding night at the scene of a wreck where ten steel hoppers of coal had become derailed and upset, blocking the main tracks for eight hours. Moreover, General Manager Tree- man had just wired him that he, Treeman, and President Banninger were coming through on No. 3, westbound, that night and they wanted the superintendent to go with them—they wanted tosee him. Barnes knew what they wanted; they wanted un- pleasant details and explanations about the derailment which had thrown schedules and everything into a jam. Barnes snatched up the letter from the desk. “Wants a furlough, does he?” he ex- claimed. He glared angrily at the sheet for a mo- ment. He had plenty of extra agents, due to the recent reductions in forces, he re- flected. He chewed his lip. Then he brought his fist down upon the desk with a bang that made his chief clerk jump. “All right,” cried Barnes. ‘‘TI’ll let him have it—all he wants.” He swung about to his chief assistant. “Here,’”’ he exclaimed, ‘“‘write him this.” THE request came to Superinten- Adventure Then he paused as a new thought came to him. ‘“‘No,” he concluded, vindictively, “‘wire it to him. That’ll give all the agents along the line a chance to hear it.”’ He dictated the message. About five o’clock that same afternoon young Donnelly heard the division relay office calling “MC” “MC”—Maple Creek— on the wire. “T am ‘MC’,” answered Donnelly. “Hr msg (here message),’’ came from the division office. : And this is what Joe got: J. DONNELLY, Agent, Maple Creek. Referring to your request of Sept. 29th for furlough. Relief agent will relieve you tomorrow Oct. Ist. Your services for some time have been entirely unsatisfactory and after tomorrow will not be required further. J. G. BARNEs. Joe Donnelly slammed his pencil down upon the telegraph table. “Well I'll be eternally jiggered,”’ he cried, and added some other things not so polite. He wrathfully held the message before him while he read it over again. And then, abruptly, he burst out laughing. ‘Fired!’ he gasped. ‘‘Fired! From this.” His eye swept around the mean little office and again the humor of it overcame _ him. “For the love of mud. I ought to thank him!”’ But, nevertheless, after a little he be- came sober and anger returned to him once more. “But that’s no way to do,” he reflected, resentfully. For he knew that it made a black mark against his record—a black mark that would stand against him when he applied some- where else for another position, and he knew that he did not deserve it, he knew that it was the final act in Barnes’s vengeance—and fierce, mounting wrath possessed Joe Don- nelly that such a man should hold such power over him. He sat considering it for quite a while, darkly—over that and the hard years he had put in here at Maple Creek—all for his reward. His gaze dwelt somberly upon a string of a half-dozen camp cars away down the track, set off on a short spur about mid- way between the station and the old wooden hundred-foot trestle that spanned the stream of Maple Creek some five hundred yards east of the station. cComicdook CO 5}