I would have run away if I hadn't been too weak.
About seven o'clock in the morning, after a night of misery, he
patronizingly told me, that it wasn't my fault at all; the despatcher
had given a "lap order," and that the blame was on him. Well! the
reaction was as bad, almost, as the first feeling of horror. I went home
and after a light breakfast, retired to bed, but not to sleep, for every
time I would close my eyes, visions of wrecks, penitentiaries, dead men
and ruined homes came crowding upon my disordered brain.
About ten o'clock they sent for me to come to the office. I went over
and Webster the agent said the superintendent wanted to see me. I had
never seen the superintendent and he seemed to me to be about as far off
as the President of the United States, but I screwed up my courage and
went in. I saw a kindly-looking gentleman seated before Webster's desk,
but I was too much frightened to speak and just stood there like a bump
on a log. Presently, Mr. Brink, the superintendent, turned to Webster
and said, "I wonder why that night man doesn't come?"
I tremblingly replied, "I am the night man, sir.
Pages:
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252