Accompanied by Their Most Severe Censure · Improvement Era

Accompanied by Their Most Severe

Censure

By F. H. Sweet

Two of the trains had already pulled up the company's

wharf to the main line, and a third was sending out its last sig-

naling whistle, when a girl hurried down Track 9 with a basket

covered by a napkin, evidently containing luncheon.

Messenger 16 was swaying unsteadily at the open door of a

car, and the girl went straight to him, her eyes bright, her cheeks

flushed. But as she drew near she recoiled suddenly, a look of

terror coming to her face.

"Petro," her white lips tried to say, but no sound came from

them.

The man passed a hand across his brow, weakly, holding to

the car by the other. The girl went a step nearer.

"What does it mean?" her voice quivered hoarsely. "Oh,

Petro!"

Something in the agony of the cry seemed to penetrate the

dulling brain of the man, for a tremor went through him, and

he straightened suddenly, as though by a great effort. The dull

eyes opened and shut heavily, and again the hand passed across

the forehad, as if to force some intelligence into the clogged

brain. Then :

"D-don't speak like that, girlie," an unrecognizable voice

mumbled. "I'm not — drunk. I never drank a drop in my life.

You know I — speak — true. It's a d-r-ug," his voice drifting back

again into the stupor.

The girl was beside him with a swift movement, the basket

thrust into the car, her hands placed firmly upon his shoulders,

her eyes close and gazing straight into his, lovingly, compellingly.

"Petro," the voice forcing itself into clearness and steadiness,

"look at me now, hard. What is it? Think."

The man made a supreme effort.

"It was Messenger 12 — Timet, you know."

She knew. She had refused Timet's love.

"He of-fered me a drink of water, and I took it. Then he

crossed to Track 3, and jumped on board his train. It was — the

one that just pulled out."

"But what did he do it for?"

"P-dpn't you understand, Lasia?" a sharp agony quivering in

242 IMPROVEMENT ERA

the voice. "This trip was to furnish the money for our wedding.

Timet knew it. He planned it just before my train starts, so I

will lose the trip. There is no time to find a sub-stitute. My

train will go — without me, and the company will be angry, and

dis-charge me for drunkenness; and — and — " his eyes again be-

coming dull and his form swaying more heavily — "and — I'm los-

ing myself. I can't see you. Quick, girlie, find the — manager

and tell him it isn't drink. A — a discharged messenger cannot —

get work anywhere."

He lurched forward and would have fallen, but she caught

him in her strong, supple arms. A quick glance both ways

showed no one was near. The fruit train on Track 5 was just

leaving the wharf, and 6 was sounding its last warning call. Half

carrying and half leading him, she hurried Messenger 16 to the

nearest entrance, only a few yards away. Several drays were

standing about waiting for a job. She motioned imperiously to

the owner of the nearest.

"Listen, Petro," she said, slowly, putting her lips close to the

ear of the now almost insensible man in an effort to make him

hear and comprehend: "I am going to send you home. You

must not worry a bit. I will fix it all right."

He was holding his train papers tightly, and she unclasped

them gently from his fingers. Then, as the drayman came for-

ward, "Take this man to his home at once, 12 Rue Citronelle.

Here is a dollar."

Inside, she again glanced sharply around. A man was run-

ning in her direction, heading toward the rear of the train, She

fecognized him as a friend of Petro's.

"Hello, Mirs Las'a," he called. "Come to see Petro off again,

have you? He's a lucky fellow. But you must excuse my hurry.

This train pulls out in three minutes, and I must reach my sec-

tion."

Lasia could hear her heart thumping in its anxiety.

"Your section is in the rear, I suppose?" she questioned,

with assumed carelessness.

"Yes," over his shoulder, "the 18 rear cars. I'm Messenger

Petro has the forward 20 cars. I switch off at Memphis for

Jefferson City, and Petro goes on to Columbus."

As he hurried away, the girl's face cleared. She had learned

all she wanted to know. Placing her hands upon the floor of the

car she gave a light spring and was within, sliding the door

quickly behind her. A few moments later her own train bell

rang and then the car began to move forward.

She never had been on a train before — never been out of

New Orleans. But her father had been a banana messenger,

and Petro had many times told her the details of his trips. She

must manipulate the ventilators of her 20 cars so as to have the

ACCOMPANIED BY SEVERE CENSURE 243

heat just right to bring the bananas to prime marketable con-

dition when she reached her destination. A few degrees too

much either way might mean the loss of a good many thousand

dollars to the company.

It was a hard trip, for the outside thermometer rose from

31 degrees to 70 degrees in six hours, and the next morning was

back again to 31 degrees, and falling. It meant a constant

shifting of the ventilators, with an impossibility of keeping the

car thermometers from fluctuating uneasily. Zero weather

v/ould have been infinitely preferable, for then the ventilators

could have remained closed, and the fruit would have generated

enough heat of its own to prevent freezing.

That night and the next day the girl did not trust herself to

sit down once, for fear she might get drowsy and momentarily

relax her vigilance. Too much depended on obtaining the best

results just now.

She was careful to keep herself out of sight, and this she

was able to do the more readily on account of the train making

few stops. At Memphis the rear section was switched off to

connect with a train west, and her own was attached to a train

which had just pulled in from Galveston, the engine returning

to New Orleans with a lot of empty cars.

A few hours later, at a watering stop, the new conductor

caught sight of her as he was hurrying along the train. She was

ju3t sliding the door, but too late.

"Hello," he cried, pausing a moment — tramp?"

Lasia slid back the door.

"No, sir," she answered, quietly, holding up the papers she

had taken from Petro ; "I am in charge of this section. I haven't

had a chance to see you before."

The conductor gave a long whistle, which ended in an

apologetic cough. But his face lengthened visibly.

"What's the company thinking of?" he ejaculated hotly.

"Next we know, girls will be put in as conductors and engineers

and brakemen." Then he hurried away, still choking resent-

fully.

Seven days later, Lasia entered the company's office at New

Orleans. The manager himself happened to be in, and he

seemed to recognize her by the papers she carried in her hand.

He came forward quickly.

But at that moment a figure which had been lounging about

the street door — a white, anxious-faced man who had been peer-

ing into the office most of the time for the last week — also saw

her and rushed in. She turned to him first.

"How are you, Petro?" she asked, eagerly— "all right?"

"Yes, yes — but you? What have you been up to, girlie?

This office has been full of talk."

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IMPROVEMENT ERA

The manager was beside them now.

"Is this Miss Lasia?" he inquired.

"Yes. Here are the receipts your commission agents gave

me. They said the fruit was in prime condition."

The manager glanced over the papers hurriedly.

"Yes, yes; they're all right," he said. "But we knew that

before. Our agents wired us that the fruit was in the very best

condition — as good as they had ever received. I — I hardly know

what to do about this. It's a most untoward thing, and should

receive our severest censure; and yet you do as well as our very

best messenger — better almost. I suppose we shall have to pass

it over. But such a thing must never happen again. No," as

her gaze went inquiringly toward Petro; "we have not discharged

him. He may go on the next trip. And you — well, it was a

most untoward thing. But I suppose you did the best you could

under such short notice. You may stop at the cashier's window

for your money, and — yes, there's a little recognition for you

there also. You saved us from a possible great loss. But re-

member, the recognition is accompanied by our most severe

censure."

Waynesboro, Va.

HOW PIONEERS MADE WAY FOR INFANTRY ADVANCE

Through the marshes of the Belgian front, the pioneers cut the enemy

wire entanglements, and in other ways facilitated the infantry advance.

These fellows preceded an attack and cleared the path. This sort of work

entailed great risk.