He's been ten minutes taking one
message, and I haven't been able to pound into his head what a 'C. N.
D,' is yet."
Clarke quietly gave him "O. K." and then turned to me with,
"I guess you are not used to this kind of work. Better go back to
railroading, and learn something about commercial work before tackling a
job like this again. Come back in six months and I'll give you another
trial." I sneaked out of the office, followed by the broad smiles of
every man in the place, and thus ended the first lesson.
I took Clarke's advice and went back to work on a narrow-gauge road
running northwards out of Houston, through the most God-forsaken country
on the footstool. Sluggish bayous, foul rank growth of vegetation,
alligators as long as a rail, that would come out and stop trains by
being on the track, and air so malarious in quality that it was only a
question of time until one had the fever. I stuck it out for two months
and then succumbed to the inevitable and went to the hospital where I
lay for three weeks. After I had fully recovered they put me to work in
the Houston General Office, and some eight months after reaching there I
received a message from my old friend Clarke, saying, "if I had improved
any in my commercial work he would give me a job at seventy dollars per
month.
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