Jasper County Democrat, Volume 9, Number 26, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 29 September 1906 — The Manager Of the B.& A. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Manager Of the B. & A.

By VAUGHAN KESTER.

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. I—DhdOakley, Manager of the Huckhoru and Antioch railroad (known aa the ‘Huckleberry”), receives two letters, one telling him that hia convict father, Rover Oakley, has been pardoned, and the other that General Cornish, the owner of the H. & A., is about to viait Antioch. ll—Oakley visit' Dr. Emory and meets Conatance Emory. Other visitors are Griff Ryder, owner of the Antioch Herald, and Turner Joice, the local artist. Ill— Oakley tells General Cornish that In order to keep the car shoos running a cut in wages is necessary. IV- Oakley tells Holt, his assistant treasurer, of the proposed cuts. V—Roger Oskley appears in Antioch. He is a worthy old man. who killed an enemy in self defence and wa* unjustly convicted of murder. VI Roger Oaklev goes to work in the car shops. Griff Kyder tries to induce Dan to keep a friend at work. Oakley refuses. Vll—Oakley and Kyder are rivals for Constance Emory’s favor.

CHAPTER VIII. KENYON came to town to remind his Antioch friends and supporters that presently he would he needing their votes. He was Ryder's guest for si week, uud the Herald recorded his movements with painstaking accuracy and with what Its editor secretly considered metropolitan enterprise. The great man had his official headquarters at the Herald office, a ramshackle two story building on the west side of the square. Here he was at home to the local politicians and to such of the general public as wished to meet him. The former smoked his cigars and talked incessaxftly of primaries, nominations and majofities—topics on which they appeared to he profoundly versed. Their distinguishing mark waß their capacity for strong drink, which was far in excess of that of the ordinary citizen who took only a casual Interest in politics. Kenyon was a sloppily dressed man of forty-five, or thereabout, who preserved an air of rustic shrewdness. He was angular faced and smooth shaven and wore his hair rather long in a tangled mop. He was generally described in the party papers as “the picturesque statesman from old Hanover.” He had served one term in congress. Prior to that, by way of apprenticeship, he had done a great deal of hard work and dirty work for his party. His fortunes had been built on the fortunes of a bigger and an abler man, who, after a fight which was already famous in the history of the state for Its bitterness, had been elected governor, and Kenyon, having picked the winner, had gone to his reward. Just now he had a shrewd Idea that the governor was anxious to unload him imd that the party leaders were sharpening their knives for him. Their change of heart grew out of the fact that he had “dared to assert his independence,” as he said, and had “played the sneak and broken his promises,” as they said. In a little transaction which had been left to him to put through. Personally Ryder counted him an unmitigated scamp, but the man’s breezy vulgarity, Ills nerve and his infinite capacity to jolly tickled his fancy. He had so far freed himself of his habitual Indifference that lie was displaying an unbeard of energy In promoting Kenyon's Interest. Of course he expected to derive certain very substantial bene--fitafrotnthc alliance.- —The congress man had made hlin endless promises, and Ryder saw, or thought he saw. his way clear to leave Antioch In the near future. For two days he had been saying, “Mr. Brown, shake hands with Congressman Kenyon,” or, “Mr. Jones, I want, you to know Congressman Kenyon. die man we must keep at Washington.”

Flt> liml marveled tit flu 1 speed with which tlic Mt'itcsnmn got down to first names. Mr. Kenyon said modestly when drift commented on this that his methods were modem—they were certainly vulgar. "I guess I’m going to give ’em a run for their money, Ryder. l ean see I’m doing good work here. Thero's nothing like being on the ground yourself.” It was characteristic of him that he should ignore the work Ryder had done In his behalf. “You are an inspiration, Sam. The people know their leader," said the editor genially, but with a touch of sarcasm that was lost on Kenyon, who took himself quite seriously. “Yes, sir. They'd ’a’ done me dirt,” feelingly, “lmt 1 am on my own range now and ready to pull off my coat and fight for wlmt's due me.” They were seated before tlie open door, which looked out upon the square. Kenyon was chewing nervously at the end of an unlit cigar which he bold between Ills fingers. “.When the nomination is imuU/I guess the other fellow will discover I ain’t been letting the grass grow in my path.” lie spat out over the dooraltl Into the street. “What's that you were Just telling me about the II uek lei awry?" “This new manuger of Cornish’s is going to make the road pay, and he’s going to do it from the pockets of the employees,” said Ryder, with a disgruntled air, for the memory of his Interview with Dan still rankled. “That ain’t bad either. You know the governor’s pretty close to Cornish. The general wns a big contributor to his campaign fund.” Ryder hitched his chair nearer his companion’s. “If there’s a cut In wages at the ahops, and I suppose that will l>e the next move, there’s bound to be a lot of bad feeling." “Well, don’t forget we are for the people,” remarked the congressman, and he wlnkedslyly.

Ryder smiled cynically. “I shan't. I have it in for the manager anyhow.” “What's wrong with him?” “Oh, nothing, but a whole lot,” answered Griff, with apparent indifference. i It was late in the afternoon, and the men from the car shops were beginning to straggle past, going In the direction of their various homes. Presently Roger Oakley strode heavily by, with his tin dinner' pall on his arm. Otherwise there was nothing, either in his dress or appearances to Indicate that he was one of the Hands. As he still lived at the hotel with Dan, he felt it necessury to exercise a certain care in the matter of dress. As he came into view the congressman swept him with n casual scrutiny; then, as the old man plodded qo up the street with deliberate step, Kenyon rose from his chair and stood in the doorway gazing after him. "What’s the matter, Sam?” asked Ryder, struck by his friend’s manner. “Who was that old man who Just went past?” “That? Oh, that’s the manager’s father! Why?” # “Well, he looks most awfully like some one else, that’s all.” And he appeared to lose Interest.

“No, he’B old man Oakley. He works in the shops.” “Oakley ?” “Yes, that’s his name. Why?” curiously. “How long has he been here, anyhow?" “A month perhaps; maybe longer. Do you know him?” “I’ve seen him before. A cousin of mine, John Kenyon, is warden of a prison back in Massachusetts. It runs in the blood to hold office. I visited him last winter, and while I was there a fire broke out in the hospital ward, and that old tnan ha4> a hand in saving the lives of two or three of the patients. The beggars came within an ace of losing their lives. I saw afterword by the papers that the governor had pardoned him.” Ryder jumped up with sudden alacrity. “Do you remember the convict’s full name?” Kenyon meditated a moment; then he said: “Roger Oakley.” The editor turned to the files of the Herald. “I’ll just look back and see If it’s the same name. I’ve probably got it here among the personals, if I can only find it. What was be Imprisoned for?” be added. “He was serving a life sentence for murder, I think, John told me, but I won’t be sure.”

"The devil you say!” ejaculated Ryder. “Yes, Roger Oakley; the name's the same.” "I knew I couldn’t be mistaken. I got a pretty good memory for names and faces. Curious, ain’t It, that he should turn up here ?” Ryder smiled queerly as he dropped Ihe Ilcrabl files buck into the rack. “His son is manager for Cornish here. He’s the fellow I was telling you about.” Kenyon smiled too. “1 guess you won’t have any more trouble with him. You’ve got him where you can hit him, and hit him hard, whenever you like.”

CHAPTER IX. IT was pay day In the car shops, and Oakley posted a number of notices In conspicuous places about the works. They announced a 10 per cent reduction In the wages of the men, the cut to go into effect Immediately. By and by McClintock came In from the yards. He was hot and perspiring, and his check shirt clung moistly to his powerful shoulders. Oakley looked up inquiringly from the letter he was writing. "Have you seen the notices?” “Yes,” nodding. "Heard anything from the men yet?” “Not a word." McClintock returned to the yards. It was the noon hour, and in the shade of on<> of the sheds he found a number of the hands at lunch, who lived too far from the shops to go home to dinner. “Say, Milt,” said one of those, “have you tumbled to the notices, 10 per cent all round? You'll be having to go down in your sock for coin.” “It's there, nil right,” cheerfully. “I knew wheu Cornish came down here there would be something drop shortly. I ain’t never known it to fail. The old skinflint! I’ll bet he ain’t losing any money.” “You bet he ain’t, not he,” said a second, with a short laugh. The first man, Brany.m by name, bit carefully Into the wedge shaped piece of pie he wns holding In his hand. “If I was as rich ns Cornish I’m hanged if I’d he such an Infernal stiff I What good Is his money doing him, nuyhow?” , “What does the boss say. Milt?” “That wages will go back as soon as he can put them back.” “Yes. they will! Like fun!” said Branyon sarcastically. “You're a lot of kickers, you are,” commented JdcCllntock good naturedly, “You .don’t believejjpjr one minute, do

you, tEaTthe'HucEleherrr or the shops ever earned a dollar?” “You can gamble on It that they ain’t ever cost Cornish a red cent,” said Branyoh as positively as a mouthful of pie would allow.* “I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” ‘said the master mechanic; walking on. “I bet he ain’t out none on this,” remarked Branyon cynically. “If he was he wouldn’t take it so blamed easy.” The men began to straggle back from -their various homes and to form in lit*

tie groups about the yards and in the shops. They talked over the cut and argued the merits of the case, as men will, made their comments on Cornish, who was generally conceded to be as mean in money matters as he was fortunate, and then went back to their work when the 1 o’clock whistle blew in a state of high good humor with themselves and their critical ability. The next day the Herald dealt with the situation at some length. The whole tone of the editorial was rancorous and bitter. It spoke of the parsimony of the new management, which had been instanced by a number of recent dismissals among men who had served the road long and faithfully and who deserved other and more considerate treatment. It declared that the cut was but the beginning of the troubles in store for the hands and characterized it as an attempt on the part of the new management to curry favor with Cornish, who was notoriously hostile to-the best interests of labor. It wound up by regretting that the men were not organized, as proper organization would have enabled them to meet this move on the part of the management.

When Oakley read the obnoxious editorial his blood grew hot and his mood belligerent. It showed evident and unusual care In the preparation, and he guessed correctly that it had been written and put in type in readiness for the cut. *lt was a direct personal attack, too, for the expression “the new management,” which was used over and over, could mean but the one thing. Dun’s first impulse was to hunt Ryder up and give him a sound thrashing, but his better sense told him that while this rational mode of expressing his indignation would have been excusable enough a few years Back, when he was only a brakeman, as the manager of the Buckhorn and Antioch railroad it was necessary to pursue a more pacific policy. * He knew he could be made very unpopular If these attacks were persisted in. nils he did not mind especially except as It would interfere with the carrying out of his plans and increase his difficulties. After thinking it over he concluded that he would better see Ryder apd have a talk with him. It would do no harm, he argued, aud it might do some good, provided, of course, that he could keep his temper. He went directly to the Herald office and found Griff in and alone. When Dan strode Into the office, looking rather warm, the latter turned a trifle pale, for he had bis doubts about the manager’s temper and no doubts at all about his muscular development, which was imposing. “I came to see what you meant by this. Ryder,” his caller said, aud he held out the paper folded to the insulting article. Ryder assumed to examine It carefully, but ho knew every word there.

“Oh, this? Oh, yes! The story of the reduction In wages down at the ear shops. There! You can take It from under iny nose. I can see quite clearly.” “Well?” “Well,” repeated Ryder after him, with exasperating composure. The editor was no stranger to Intrusions of this sort, for his sarcasms were frequently personal. His manner varied to suit each Individual case. When the wronged party stormed Into the office, wrathful and loud lunged, he was generally willing to make prompt reparation, especially if the visitor had the advantage of physical preponderance on his side. When, however, the caller was uncertain and palpably in nwe of him, as sometimes happened, he got no sort of satisfaction. With Oakley he pursued a middle course. “Well?’ he repented. "What do you mean by this?” “I think It speaks for itself, don’t you?’ “I went Into this matter with you, and you know_as yell as_l do why the

men Are cuL^Thls^—strikThgibe paper contemptuously with his open hand—“is the worst sort of rubbish, but it may serve to make the men feel that they are being wronged, and it is an attack on me.” “Did you notice that? I didn’t know but it was too subtle for you.” He couldn’jt resist the gibe at Oakley’s expense. “Disguised, of course, but intended to give the men less confidence in me. Now, I’m not going to stand any more of this sort of thing!” He was conscious he had brought his remarks to a decidedly lame conclusion. “And I’ll tell you one thing, Mr. Oakley. I’m editor of the Herald, and I don’t allow any man to dictate to me what I shall print. That’s a point I’ll pass on for myself." “You know the situation. You know that the general will dispose of his interests here unless they can be made self sustaining, and, whether you like him or not, he stands as a special providence to the town.” “I only know what you have told me,” sneerlngly. Oakley bit his lips. He saw it would have been better to have left Ryder alone. He felt his own weakness and his inability to force him against his will to be fair. He gulped down hi* anger and chagrin. “I don’t see what you can gain by stirring up this matter.” "Perhaps you don’t.” "Am I to understand you are hostile to the road?” “If that means you, yes. You haven’t helped yourself by coming here as though you could bully me into your way of thinking. I didn’t get much satisfaction from my call on you. You let me know you could attend to your own affairs, and I can attend to mine Just as easily. I hope you appreciate that” Dan turned on his heel and left the ofiice, cursing himself for his stupidity In having given the editor an opportunity to get even. [TO BE CONTINUED]

"I came to see what you meant by this.”