Argosy All-Story Weekly, January 21, 1922 — page 64: what you’re looking at

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

54 The first-trick man walked over to the table. “ How'd it happen?” he asked. . “Thornton put out an order giving the 89 time on the 88,” Shelby replied. “ He called me a bit ago, and asked for sigs on the order to the 88. He never gave it to me. I haven’t taken a thing in two hours. They got together just beyond Andover. Busted Jimmy King’s leg for him, and spilled the engines and a bunch of cars over the right-of-way. Thomton is trying to nail me to a pole. I’ll fix his clock for him.” “Thornton’s a bad actor,” the operator said. ‘‘Meanest guy in this State, bar none. He'll lie till he chokes. He’s always standing from under. You want to look out for him when they get you all on the carpet.” “ll cave his face in for him,” Shelby said. ‘“ That ’d do you no good,” the first-trick man said sagely. “ Better get yourself primed with dope. Somebody ’1l be canned, you know—canned and sent out into the cold world all by his lonesome, no clearance, no nothin’. Bad business, son. You bet- ter get the chief on the wire and spill your tale before Thornton has talked him into believing it’s a dead open-and-shut case against you.” ‘‘ That’s what I’m waiting for,” Shelby said. The business on the wire was finished for the moment. Shelby opened his key and tried to call the despatcher’s office. Somebody else wanted the office also, but Shelby felt his need to be imperative, and he took a chance on being called down for wire-fighting. Wire-fighting was a tame charge, anyway, compared to the one he must presently face. The other operator desisted in a moment, and Shelby got the despatcher’s office. ** Chief?” he asked. “J,” said the operator laconically. ‘Lemme speak to him a minute,” Shelby said. The operator held his key open for a moment. “‘T, DK,” the sounder then said. “ DK ” was Drake, the day chief. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. “This is Shelby, at Boynton,” Shelby said. ‘ Thornton thinks he gave me an order for that 88, but he didn’t. I haven’t had a thing here since five o’clock. I O.S.’d that 88, and he didn’t say anything about sigs. I’m not in on this.” That seemed rather lame as he closed his key. The fact that Thornton had not asked for signatures to the order when Shel- by had given his O.S. signified nothing. On this road an order was made com- plete as soon as it was repeated by the operator. Signatures could be given any time. Thornton might have been busy and have waited to get the signatures later. That was often done. | But the chief had no criticism to make of Shelby’s explanation. “Hr,” he said. “ Take this: ‘ToShel- by, Boynton: Come in on No. 11. Report to superintendent’s office on arrival.’ ” Then he sent Shelby a pass on No. 11. Shelby sat back in his chair and stared at the two pieces of clip. *“ Buck up, kid,” the first-trick man said. “Tf they put the blocks to you, you can come back. You’re young and _ strong. You can land somewhere.” “Yeh,” said Shelby. ‘I can see my- self drifting around the country looking for a job, and being asked when and where and why, and saying I was canned because they said I had forgotten an order. It ’ll be the Trail of the Lonesome Pining for yours truly. Ill be a hobo. I'll drift down, down. I’ll probably take to drink and get the delirium tremens. I'll fill a drunkard’s grave in a paupers’ field.” “Mercy me, how young you are!” said the first-trick man. “A guy can certainly be solemn when he’s twenty-two. I would not feel that bad if I lost my own job, and I’ve a wife and two children. Take a brace, boy.” “Oh, that was mostly conversation so I’d hear myself converse,” Shelby said. ‘“* On the level, do you think Thornton will stick to it that he sent me that order when he knows in his soul that he didn’t?” © ‘“* That’s just the trouble,” the first-trick man said, ‘Thornton ain’t got no soul. He’s got some kind of dry fillin’ where his soul ought to be. Ever see him?” comicloool C©