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Then
he
snatched
a
glance
about
the
room
.
The
dispatcher
was
busy
at
his
telephone
.
The
trainmaster
and
the
road
foreman
were
there
,
but
they
pretended
that
they
were
not
waiting
.
He
wished
Bill
Brent
,
the
chief
dispatcher
,
would
go
home
;
Bill
Brent
stood
in
a
corner
,
watching
him
.
Brent
was
a
short
,
thin
man
with
broad
shoulders
;
he
was
forty
,
but
looked
younger
;
he
had
the
pale
face
of
an
office
worker
and
the
hard
,
lean
features
of
a
cowboy
.
He
was
the
best
dispatcher
on
the
system
.
Mitchum
rose
abruptly
and
walked
upstairs
to
his
office
,
clutching
Locey
’
s
order
in
his
hand
.
Dave
Mitchum
was
not
good
at
understanding
problems
of
engineering
and
transportation
,
but
he
understood
men
like
Clifton
Locey
.
He
understood
the
kind
of
game
the
New
York
executives
were
playing
and
what
they
were
now
doing
to
him
.
The
order
did
not
tell
him
to
give
Mr
.
Chalmers
a
coal
-
burning
engine
—
just
"
an
engine
.
"
If
the
time
came
to
answer
questions
,
wouldn
’
t
Mr
.
Locey
gasp
in
shocked
indignation
that
he
had
expected
a
division
superintendent
to
know
that
only
a
Diesel
engine
could
be
meant
in
that
order
?
The
order
stated
that
he
was
to
send
the
Comet
through
"
safely
"
—
wasn
’
t
a
division
superintendent
expected
to
know
what
was
safe
?
—
"
and
without
unnecessary
delay
.
"
What
was
an
unnecessary
delay
?
If
the
possibility
of
a
major
disaster
was
involved
,
wouldn
’
t
a
delay
of
a
week
or
a
month
be
considered
necessary
?
The
New
York
executives
did
not
care
,
thought
Mitchum
;
they
did
not
care
whether
Mr
.
Chalmers
reached
his
meeting
on
time
,
or
whether
an
unprecedented
catastrophe
struck
their
rails
;
they
cared
only
about
making
sure
that
they
would
not
be
blamed
for
either
.
If
he
held
the
train
,
they
would
make
him
the
scapegoat
to
appease
the
anger
of
Mr
.
Chalmers
;
if
he
sent
the
train
through
and
it
did
not
reach
the
western
portal
of
the
tunnel
,
they
would
put
the
blame
on
his
incompetence
;
they
would
claim
that
he
had
acted
against
their
orders
,
in
either
case
.
What
would
he
be
able
to
prove
?
To
whom
?
One
could
prove
nothing
to
a
tribunal
that
had
no
stated
policy
,
no
defined
procedure
,
no
rules
of
evidence
,
no
binding
principles
—
a
tribunal
,
such
as
the
Unification
Board
,
that
pronounced
men
guilty
or
innocent
as
it
saw
fit
,
with
no
standard
of
guilt
or
innocence
.
Dave
Mitchum
knew
nothing
about
the
philosophy
of
law
;
but
he
knew
that
when
a
court
is
not
bound
by
any
rules
,
it
is
not
bound
by
any
facts
,
and
then
a
hearing
is
not
an
issue
of
justice
,
but
an
issue
of
men
,
and
your
fate
depends
not
on
what
you
have
or
have
not
done
,
but
on
whom
you
do
or
do
not
know
.
He
asked
himself
what
chance
he
would
have
at
such
a
hearing
against
Mr
.
James
Taggart
,
Mr
.
Clifton
Locey
,
Mr
.
Kip
Chalmers
and
their
powerful
friends
.
Dave
Mitchum
had
spent
his
life
slipping
around
the
necessity
of
ever
making
a
decision
;
he
had
done
it
by
waiting
to
be
told
and
never
being
certain
of
anything
.
All
that
he
now
allowed
into
his
brain
was
a
long
,
indignant
whine
against
injustice
.
Fate
,
he
thought
,
had
singled
him
out
for
an
unfair
amount
of
bad
luck
:
he
was
being
framed
by
his
superiors
on
the
only
good
job
he
had
ever
held
.
He
had
never
been
taught
to
understand
that
the
manner
in
which
he
obtained
this
job
,
and
the
frame
-
up
,
were
inextricable
parts
of
a
single
whole
.
As
he
looked
at
Locey
’
s
order
,
he
thought
that
he
could
hold
the
Comet
,
attach
Mr
.
Chalmers
’
car
to
an
engine
and
send
it
into
the
tunnel
,
alone
.
But
he
shook
his
head
before
the
thought
was
fully
formed
:
he
knew
that
this
would
force
Mr
.
Chalmers
to
recognize
the
nature
of
the
risk
;
Mr
.
Chalmers
would
refuse
;
he
would
continue
to
demand
a
safe
and
non
-
existent
engine
.
And
more
:
this
would
mean
that
he
,
Mitchum
,
would
have
to
assume
responsibility
,
admit
full
knowledge
of
the
danger
,
stand
in
the
open
and
identify
the
exact
nature
of
the
situation
—
the
one
act
which
the
policy
of
his
superiors
was
based
on
evading
,
the
one
key
to
their
game
.
