The railway was a single line.  Telegraph orders to trains often became necessary, although it was not then a regular practice to run trains by telegraph.  No one but the superintendent himself was permitted to give a train order on any part of the Pennsylvania system, or indeed of any other system, I believe, at that time.  It was then a dangerous expedient to give telegraphic orders, for the whole system of railway management was still in its infancy, and men had not yet been trained for it.  It was necessary for Mr. Scott to go out night after night to break-downs or wrecks to superintend the clearing of the line.  He was necessarily absent from the office on many mornings.

One morning I reached the office and found that a serious accident on the Eastern Division had delayed the express passenger train westward, and that the passenger train eastward was proceeding with a flagman in advance at every curve.  The freight trains in both directions were all standing still upon the sidings.  Mr. Scott was not to be found.  Finally I could not resist the temptation to plunge in, take the responsibility, give “train orders,” and set matters going.  “Death or Westminster Abbey,” flashed across my mind.  I knew it was dismissal, disgrace, perhaps criminal punishment for me if I erred.  On the other hand, I could bring in the wearied freight-train men who had lain out all night.  I could set everything in motion.  I knew I could.  I had often done it in wiring Mr. Scott’s orders.  I knew just what to do, and so I began.  I gave the orders in his name, started every train, sat at the instrument watching every tick, carried the trains along from station to station, took extra precautions, and had everything running smoothly when Mr. Scott at last reached the office.  He had heard of the delays.  His first words were: 

“Well!  How are matters?”

He came to my side quickly, grasped his pencil and began to write his orders.  I had then to speak, and timidly said: 

“Mr. Scott, I could not find you anywhere and I gave these orders in your name early this morning.”

“Are they going all right?  Where is the Eastern Express?”

I showed him the messages and gave him the position of every train on the line—­freights, ballast trains, everything—­showed him the answers of the various conductors, the latest reports at the stations where the various trains had passed.  All was right.  He looked in my face for a second.  I scarcely dared look in his.  I did not know what was going to happen.  He did not say one word, but again looked carefully over all that had taken place.  Still he said nothing.  After a little he moved away from my desk to his own, and that was the end of it.  He was afraid to approve what I had done, yet he had not censured me.  If it came out all right, it was all right; if it came out all wrong, the responsibility was mine.  So it stood, but I noticed that he came in very regularly and in good time for some mornings after that.