Chapter I: The Boss Defied

The man in the gray uniform of Uncle Sam’s postal service laughed lightly. “Don’t talk like a boob,” he said. “I’m not defying any organization, and I have no desire to make an enemy of Mr. Samuel J. Coggswell or anybody else. If he’s petty and narrow-minded enough to get sore on me just because I refuse to give up five dollars for a picnic ticket for which I have no earthly use, well, I can’t help it.”

The smile upon his good-humored face suddenly gave place to a sterner expression. “And let me tell you,” he went on, “I don’t like your method of selling tickets. The way you go about it looks to me very much like blackmail. I never had the pleasure of meeting your friend, Mr. Coggswell, but if he instructed you to hold up strangers on the street, and hand them that line of talk, I haven’t any use for him; and you can tell him I said so.”

The stout, red-faced, flashily dressed young man who had accosted the letter carrier on the street corner just as the latter was about to enter Branch Post Office X Y, scowled at this utterance.

“Oh, I’ll tell him, all right,” he retorted. “You can bet he’s goin’ to hear about your freshness. What’s your name, anyway?”

“Owen Sheridan,” was the prompt reply.

The other produced a pencil and memorandum book from his vest pocket and ostentatiously made a note of the name.

“Very well, Mr. Sheridan,” he sneered, “we’ll see how you’ll feel when you’re on Boss Coggswell’s black list. Guess he’ll make you lose that cocky air before long.”

He turned on his heel and sauntered off up the street. Carrier Sheridan, who had just returned from his delivery route, entered the post office and went upstairs to the “swing room”--the place in which the carriers lounge between tours--and joined a dozen of his gray-coated comrades who were indulging in a few minutes of idle chatter.

“I had a funny experience just now,” he said; “a chap buttonholed me on the corner and tried to sell me a ticket to the Samuel J. Coggswell Association’s annual chowder and outing. When I refused to come across with five dollars, and told him I had no desire to go to the outing, he got sore and began to threaten me with the wrath of Mr. Coggswell. He said it meant my finish in the postal service if I wouldn’t give up. Can you beat that for cast-iron nerve?”

Instead of the loud laugh which he expected, some of the carriers smiled sheepishly, and others looked grave.

“You don’t mean to say that you refused to take the ticket, son?” exclaimed “Pop” Andrews, a grizzled carrier, whose coat sleeve bore two gold stars, signifying that he had seen forty years’ service in the department.

“I certainly did refuse,” replied young Sheridan indignantly. “Do you suppose for a minute that I’d let any man blackmail me into giving up money for something I don’t want?”

Pop Andrews shook his head deprecatingly. “That was foolish of you, very foolish. If you want to get along in this business, you can’t afford to antagonize ‘Boss’ Coggswell. You haven’t been in New York long, so perhaps you don’t know who and what he is?”

“Oh, yes, I do,” replied Sheridan, with a smile. “I’ve heard of him, of course. He’s a politician, and the leader of this assembly district; but I don’t see what reason I’ve got to be afraid of him as long as I do my duty. This is a civil-service job, and----”

Several of the men interrupted him with bitter laughter. Pop Andrews undertook to explain the reason for their mirth.

“Civil service is all right as far as it goes, son,” he said gravely, “but the trouble is, it don’t go very far--not nearly as far as the pull of Samuel J. Coggswell.

“You see,” he went on, “the boss has got so much influence at Washington that he can get pretty near anything he wants. If he wishes to boost a postal employee’s salary, or land him a soft berth, he can do it with a few strokes of his pen, or a few words on the long-distance wire. But if he wishes to keep a man down, he only has to put in a knock at headquarters, and the poor fellow’s goose is cooked. You can slave, and study, and take all the civil-service exams you want, but you’ll never get promotion while you’re on Samuel J. Coggswell’s black list.”

“You don’t mean it?” exclaimed Sheridan in astonishment. “Then that fellow spoke the truth? I thought he was only trying to bluff me into buying a ticket for the outing.”

“He gave it to you straight,” replied the veteran postman. “You shouldn’t have refused to buy the ticket. I guess you’re the only employee in this branch that hasn’t got one.”

“Is that right, boys?” demanded the astonished carrier, turning incredulously to his comrades. “You don’t mean to say that you are all going to the outing?”

The other carriers laughed. “I reckon there’s mighty few of us that’ll be there,” said one. “I gave my ticket to a feller that keeps a delicatessen shop on my route, this morning. It wasn’t any use to me.”

“Then why on earth did you buy it?” demanded Sheridan indignantly.

“For the reason that Pop has just given you--because I want to stand in right with Coggswell,” was the candid reply. “That’s why we all buy ’em each year. It’s Coggswell’s little graft. He knows that we haven’t any use for the tickets, but it’s his pleasant little way of collecting five dollars a year from each of us. Considerin’ the pull he’s got at headquarters, we think it’s a mighty good investment.”

“I think it’s a dirty piece of blackmail,” declared Sheridan, his eyes flashing. “Before I’d submit to it, I’d----”

“Don’t be rash, son,” broke in Pop Andrews. “That kind of talk sounds good behind the footlights at a theater, but, take it from me, it won’t carry you very far in the service. You’re young and ambitious, you want to get ’way up in the department; take my advice, and win the friendship of the man whose pull can put you there. You might begin by joining his organization. That’s what a good many of the fellows in this branch are doing. They’re wise enough to see the advantage of being a member of the Samuel J. Coggswell Association.”

“But I’m on the other side of the fence,” protested Sheridan. “My politics----”

“I don’t care what your politics are,” interrupted the grizzled carrier, with a sly wink. “When Election Day comes you can vote whatever way you want. We all do that. Coggswell has no way of telling in which column you put the cross. But in between elections, belong to the organization and whoop it up for Coggswell all you can. In that way you’re sure to bring yourself to the boss’ attention.”

“I guess I’ve brought myself to his attention already,” said Sheridan, with a whimsical smile. “You see, Pop, in addition to refusing to buy a ticket, I sent him a message, telling him just what I think of him and his blackmailing methods.”

“Phew!” exclaimed several of the carriers, looking at their comrade commiseratingly. Owen Sheridan was very popular with the employees of Branch X Y, and they would have been sorry to see him come to grief.

“What sort of a man was this fellow you were up against?” inquired Pop Andrews gravely.

“A chap about my own age, I should judge; rather stout, with a red, beefy face, and dressed to kill,” replied Owen. “He had a diamond in his necktie so big that it almost blinded me, and he was smoking a big black cigar that I guess only a politician could afford to buy.”

“That was Jake Hines,” declared one of the men. “He’s Coggswell’s right-hand man.”

“Jake’s not a bad sort, if he’s handled right,” said Pop Andrews. “If I were you, Owen, I’d go and see him this evening. You’ll find him at the clubhouse. He hangs round there nearly every night.”

“Go and see him? What for?” demanded Sheridan in astonishment.

“To have a talk with him and straighten things out, of course. You don’t want to lose any time rectifying the blunder you’ve made. Tell Jake that you’ve been thinking things over, and you’ve decided that you’d like one of those tickets, after all. If you can afford it, it would be a good scheme to take two, to help smooth things over, you know.”

Owen Sheridan laughed heartily at this suggestion. “Say, if I could get the job of postmaster general to-morrow merely by buying one of those tickets, I wouldn’t buy one!” he declared resolutely.