The small-town railroad telegrapher is a determined member of a dying breed. He sits in a paint-peeling station house, idly fingering silent keys and dreaming of days when fellows such as young Thomas Edison made the vagabond telegrapher a giant among men and a hero to small boys. Times have passed him by, auto mated relay systems have obsoleted him but the telegrapher hangs on by a finger.
Last autumn, rather than take a strike, the mighty Southern Pacific Co. virtually guaranteed to keep on all of its telegraphers until retirement or death. Last week, refused a similar settlement by...
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