o
be filled in and signed for everything received, if no more than a stick
of wood or a nail or a bolt. The company demanded these of all foremen,
in order to keep its records straight. Its accounting department was
useless without them. At the same time, Rourke kept talking of the
"nonsinse av it," and the "onraisonableness" of demanding o.k.s for
everything. "Ye'd think some one was goin' to sthale thim from thim," he
declared irritably and defiantly.

I saw at once that some infraction of the railroad rules had occurred
and that he had been "called down," or "jacked up" about it, as the
railroad men expressed it. He was in a high state of dudgeon, and as
defiant and pugnacious as his royal Irish temper would allow. At the
same time he was pleased to think that I or some one had arrived who
would relieve him of this damnable "nonsinse," or so he hoped. He was
not so inexperienced as not to imagine that I could help him with all
this. In fact, as time proved, this was my sole reason for being here.

He flung a parting shot at his superior as I departed.

"Tell him that I'll sign fer thim when I get thim, an' not before," he
declared.

I went on my way, knowing full well that no such message was for
delivery, and that he did not intend that it should be. It was just the
Irish of it. I went off to Woodlawn and secured the bolts, after which I
went down to the "ahffice" and reported. There I found the chief clerk,
a mere slip of a dancing master in a high collar and attractive office
suit, who was also in a high state of dudgeon because Rourke, as he now
explained, had failed to render an o.k. for this and other things, and
did not seem to understand that he, the chief clerk, must have them to
make up his reports. Sometimes o.k.s did not come in for a month or
more, the goods lying around somewhere until Rourke could use them. He
wanted to know what explanation Rourke had to offer, and when I
suggested that the latter thought, apparently, that he could leave all
consignments of goods in one station or another until such time as he
needed them before he o.k.ed for them, he fairly foamed.

"Say," he almost shouted, at the same time shoving his hands
distractedly through his hair, "what does he think I am? How does he
think I'm going to make up my books? He'll leave them there until he
needs them, will he? Well, he's a damned fool, and you go back and tell
him I said so. He's been long enough on the road to know better.