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Practical Kanban
From Team Focus to Creating Value
Klaus Leopold
3. Large-Scale Kanban
3.1 A Practical Example: A Sales Platform with more than 200
Project Employees
3.2 Scaling up Kanban
3.2.1 Consolidating Services
3.2.2 Connecting Services
3.2.3 Shared Services
3.3 Large-Scale Kanban at Bosch Automotive Electronics
4. Forecasting
4.1 Forecasting Requirements
4.2 Forecast for a Work Unit
4.3 Forecast for several Work Items without Historical Data
4.3.1 Determining the Minimum and Maximum
4.3.2 Monte Carlo Simulation
4.3.3 Continuous Throughput Forecasting
4.3.4 Interview with Troy Magennis
4.4 Can You Trust the Forecast?
4.4.1 Relationship between Work in Progress, Cycle Time and Throughput
4.4.2 Measuring the Stability of a System
4.4.3 Interpreting Stability Patterns
4.4.4 Interview with Daniel Vacanti
4.5 Summary
Klaus Leopold
Like any new method, Kanban has become a trend, which in itself brings
risks. Whether brought on through their own actions, or through greater
economic crises and upheavals, companies search for the next magic
elixir which can solve all of their problems in economically unstable
times. The elixir being used at the moment is Agile. Companies hope to
find success by implementing Agile practices and, at some point, realize
just following the rules of a few practices is not the same as using them.
Behind every method stands an abundance of knowledge and insights
from principles and assessments which need to be understood in order
to use the method successfully.
This is exactly what I experience with Kanban; all hopes are put into one
method. Several times a month, I observe highly motivated people in
their various companies develop, within two days, the most amazing
Kanban systems. These works of art, composed of colorful Post-It®
notes, perfectly drawn columns and swim lanes, hang on the wall and
are proudly observed by the team. “I really hope Kanban can make us
faster” or “Hopefully Kanban will help us somehow” are statements
which commonly follow. While these statements slowly move to the back
of my mind, I imagine the daily routine in such a company. The team
sits in a semi-circle in front of the Kanban board as a member takes a
red Post-It® and writes “Block: Test Infrastructure not ready” and
proceeds to the board and places the Post-It® on a ticket in the Test
column, turns around and sits down again. His colleagues confusedly
look at him, often followed by an awkward silence, until someone finally
asks, “How does that help?”
Mike Rother, in his book “Toyota Kata”, tells the story of a friend who
traveled to Japan several times to visit a Toyota factory (Rother, 2010). On
his first visit, he observed how the assembly line workers took pieces off of
rolling shelves which were filled with parts from different car models. The
worker could pull the appropriate components from the shelf based on the
model of car which was rolling down the assembly line. Through the use of
these rolling shelves, several different models of cars could be assembled
on the same line, and many automakers copied this system.
Several years later, Mike Rother’s friend returned to the same factory, but
the rolling shelves had been removed. The component parts for each car
were arranged in a kit which rolled down the assembly line with the
appropriate car. When the car arrived at an assembly point, the worker
need only reach into the kit to retrieve the necessary part.
Mike Rother’s friend was indignant. He asked his Toyota host which
approach was the correct one, but the host didn’t understand the question.
The host answered, “When you were here the first time many years ago,
we were assembling four different car models on this line. Today we
assemble eight different models on the same line - it was not possible to
hold the various components for each car model on one shelf. Not to
mention that we wanted to achieve a one-piece flow. Whenever you visit
us, you see the solution which we developed for a specific situation at a
given point in time.”
In both charts, the x-axis is the cycle time in days and the y-axis show
the frequency of each cycle time. By calculating the average cycle time,
we see that System 1 makes a delivery every 20 days and System 2
makes a delivery every 35 days, so clearly System 1 is faster than
System 2. Faster is always better, correct? What if speed is important,
but something else was more important than speed? Let’s look at the
two systems again from a different angle.
In Figure 1.2, the x-axis shows the deviation from the average cycle time
in days, giving us a different aspect of the systems being compared.
System 1 makes a delivery every 20 days on average, but with an
uncertainty of +/- 11 days. On the other hand, the owners of System 2
can deliver in 35 days, and the customer can be assured that they
receive their product within +/- 2 days of their delivery date. Thus
System 2 is more predictable. So, which system is better?
You probably have already noticed that neither system is better unless
we know in which context and in which industry these systems are used.
In the automobile industry, for instance, the production start of a new
model begins on a target date. Before this target date, all of the
components - which can be as many as 10,000 individual components -
for the new model must be developed. Once in production, the result of
this development is reproduced. Any additional delay to beginning
production would cost an arm and a leg. Predictability is, in this case,
the only criteria to evaluate the fitness of the development department
for the purpose of developing a new model. In contrast, speed of
delivery would be more important for a software start-up because the
customers want to see new features more quickly, even if quality is
perhaps still slightly lacking.
The real question is, what is important for the customer? Each company,
and each entity within a company, fulfills a specific purpose. For some
companies, the purpose is to make money as fast as possible. Other
companies prefer to be in the market long-term and believe in offering
the customer - whose purchases pay the bills - better service. The
internal processes of the company should be aligned to whichever
purpose they serve, thus giving the customer what they want and need.
In addition, a company must recognize what type of service a customer
values. By which fitness criteria (Anderson, 2013) does a customer
evaluate the type of service? The fitness criteria often are, but not
limited to:
Delivery time
Predictability/Adherence to delivery schedules
Quality
Security
Compliance with regulatory requirements.
Good fitness criteria, from the customer’s view, are those which are
definable and measurable. In reality however, such criteria - for
example, efficiency, agility or quality - are terminologies which each
person defines and understands differently. When I set up Kanban in a
company, I often hear the employees discuss their expectation of
increasing efficiency in the organization. Great, but at what point is the
company more efficient? Efficiency is a general term that needs to be
specifically defined since the idea of efficiency is different not only for
each company, but for each person. In such cases, I pose the following
question: What do we want to improve with Kanban and how can we
measure our improvement? By persistently repeating this question, the
empty umbrella terms of efficiency give way to tangible, quantifiable
metrics.
A stack of paper
A stopwatch
At least six people, but no more than 12 people, in a single row
(designates the work system)
The first person in the row (work system) is responsible for
passing the paper into the system one piece at a time.
The last person in the row (work system) is responsible for
timing the work.
How to proceed:
Figure 1.3: Ship Building Setup
The people in a work system sit side-by-side at a table (make sure the
table is long enough).
With the exception of the next-to-last person, each member in the
work system is responsible for a maximum two folds of the ship,
regardless of the total number of people in the system, and each fold
(activity) is distinct for each work system member. I define an
activity to be the individual steps or actions which are
executed in a work system that at the end produces tangible
value. An activity can have many different forms - in this experiment
it denotes the various folds needed to form a paper ship.
The next-to-last person must complete several complicated folds.
The last person time-stamps each completed ship.
Round 1: There is no limit to the work which flows into the system.
The members work according to the push principle and, as soon as
their work (fold) is completed, move the ship to the next member.
Round 2: This round demonstrates the pull principle. Only one ship at
a time can be worked on in each individual activity (WIP limit of 1).
This means, as soon as a participant has completed her activity, she
raises her hand and leaves her ship on the table in front of her. She
can only take a new ship into her activity when her ship has been
pulled into the following activity and the ship in the previous activity is
finished and waiting to be pulled.
Ships will be worked in a strict First In, First Out (FIFO) order; i.e, the
ships will be worked on in the order that they enter the system.
Team members are not allowed to help one another or improve the
process. This might seem strange, but it is important since we want to
measure the difference between the two rounds. If the process would
be improved in the second round, we could not compare the
measurements between the first and second round.
Work needs to be done quickly because we want to maximize output.
In economic terms, if each ship produced can be sold for ten dollars,
then the goal is to produce as many ships as possible in each round.
Push it! Everyone knows this situation well. There is endless amount of
work to finish and the salespeople pull in one order after another.
Ursula, from today’s training, gets the roll of Sales Manager. Her job is to
fold the piece of paper in half and pass it into the work system. In the
first round, she does this without pause. At the beginning, everyone is
still having fun and Harald, the next one in line, only has to fold the
paper in half. He’s pretty swift and manages to pass the paper within
half a minute on to Anna, whose activity is a bit more complex because
she needs to fold the corners towards the middle. The next member,
Lisa, also completes her activity deftly, but slowly a backlog of work
starts to pile up. As the pile gets larger, the laughter dies down and a
concentrated silence takes over the room. Everyone hastily folds their
ships to reduce their pile as quickly as possible, but before a ship is even
completed, two more have landed on the pile. Tom, who sits at the end
of the row and has to complete three activities, has it the worst. I joke
with him, “Hopefully you don’t break your fingers,” as he continuously
folds the ships one after the other. For the first few seconds he keeps up
the pace fairly well, when all of a sudden two ships pile up, then three,
then five until he has a vast pile next to him: a textbook example of a
bottleneck. Too bad for Tom - everyone else is so busy doing their own
activity that nobody has time to help him. John, on the other hand, has
an easy job. He measures how many ships per minute are completed,
starts the stopwatch at the beginning of the round and each time a ship
leaves the final activity, he notes the time. I motivate the members to
work faster and faster because I can sell each completed ship for ten
dollars and I want to get rich!
After two minutes, I send a red piece of paper into our ship building
enterprise and give notice that it will be the last ship. Gradually each
member finishes her work, but Tom has a few minutes of work left.
While the members are waiting for Tom to finish his work, I give them
some food for thought. I tell them, “Don’t forget, in reality you would
need to continue working because there are always new customer
orders being placed.” Finally, Tom finishes the red ship and sends it to
John, at which point I say “Stop!” John measures the cycle time (see the
formula below) of the red ship:
Pull it! The second round begins under different circumstances. In each
activity, only one ship can be worked on at a time, which denotes a WIP
limit of 1. Ursula, our Sales Manager, holds to the guidelines exactly and
sits calmly in front of her pile of paper. She folds the first piece, then
raises her hand. Harald pulls the piece of paper from Ursula, completes
his fold, then raises his hand. This is the signal for Anna to pull the piece
of paper from Harald, complete her folds, then raise her hand. It
reminds me a bit of a human “wave” moving through a football stadium
- a rhythm is established in the assembly line: complete the fold(s), raise
your hand, then pull the next ship. Tom, who is the process bottleneck
at the end of the row, has less stress in this round because he can
steadily fold his ships to completion without ships piling up in front of
him. However, since Tom must make four folds to complete the ship, his
tempo determines the speed of the entire production line. That means,
at some point during the exercise, everyone must wait for Tom to
complete his activity before the next ship gets pulled. When this
happens, I comment (again) how each ship can be sold for €10 and if
the workers in our “factory” are staring at the ceiling instead of working,
we will soon go bankrupt. It is interesting to see what the participants
do while they are waiting for the next ship. Some closely observe what is
happening in the production line. Others use the time to improve the
quality of their work by carefully going over the folds again. After two
minutes, I send a red piece of paper in to the system. At 2 minutes and
45 seconds, the completed ship arrives at John - the cycle time is 45
seconds. Stop.
1.1.1 We Cannot Complete More Work, Even If
We Work Faster
Let’s review shortly: In the first round using the push principle, everyone
worked as fast as they could. In the second round, several people had
time to relax and just look around or used the time to improve their
work. This can only mean the second round was less productive, or-? I
asked the participants how they felt after working with the pull principle
and I received the following answers:
I love this moment - the participant’s faces are filled with looks of
bewilderment. How are these results possible?
W. Edwards Deming would say, “It’s not about working harder, it’s about
working smarter” (Deming 2000). This is exactly what happens in a pull
system, because the work flows in only as fast as the bottleneck allows.
For one thing, workers in the system can budget their time accordingly
and second, they still have time left over (which is, ironically,
automatically interpreted as a bad sign). So I ask my training
participants, “What could we do with the free time available while
waiting for the bottleneck to clear?”
Nobody can give a valid estimation for when work will be completed in
an unlimited system where new work is continuously added that needs
to be worked on immediately. In addition, people are conditioned to
estimate effort. They ask themselves the question “How long do I
need?” instead of focusing on the cycle time by asking “When will it be
finished?”
Think once more about our flow experiment: What would have
happened if I had placed the red piece of paper into the system after 15
minutes instead of two minutes?
One of the greatest advantages of WIP limits for both the worker and the
customer is predictability. On-time delivery is only possible when the
amount of work which gets started is limited, which results in a stable
system.
Customer: “I could fold the ship together myself in two minutes and you
are telling me that after one hour it still isn’t finished? Hurry it up!”
Which means the red ship gets top priority and is sent past all other
ships in the assembly line. Bad luck for the customers waiting for white
ships; they now have to wait longer. Thank goodness, the red ship will
be finished before the others - at least the impatient customer is
somewhat satisfied.
However, a company usually has more than one customer. The possibility
increases within an unlimited push system that there are many unhappy,
waiting customers who want their orders pushed forward. At some point
the system is flooded with red ships. What happened?
You would not believe the bizarre excesses which can occur from an
uncontrolled prioritization in the real world. In many companies, I have
seen not only priority 1, but also priority 1+ and 1++. When a company
reaches this stage, a task force is established, which itself gets
prioritized - a fascinating endless circle.
If priority should be guaranteed to a customer, it is necessary to limit not
only the system, but also the priorities.
In a push system, the following would occur: the customer’s red ship
would be taken out of the process and instead a green ship would be
placed at the beginning of a system which is already overloaded. Not to
mention the work already performed on the red ship is wasted. That
hurts the bottom line.
What would happen in a WIP limited pull system? Nothing. The work on
the red ship would have not started when the customer changed their
mind, thus there would be no economic loss.
With a limited system, we strive to keep the cycle time short and at the
same time start the undertaking of a job as late as possible (Late
Commitment). Thereby we reduce the risk that job changes requested at a
later time would make the work already performed useless.
The local optimization of the teams at the beginning of the process has
the effect that more jobs can be pushed into the system. As more work
is shoved into the system, the amount of work in progress (WIP)
increases. More work in progress means longer cycle time. If a
bottleneck is present in the system somewhere (and there is always a
bottleneck), it determines the total throughput of the work system. The
local improvement of individual teams results in the entire system
slowing down.
It is a firmly held belief in many companies that local optimization has a
positive effect on the entire system. In the Agile way of thinking, the
team is the focal point of optimization because the value stream consists
of building a team with representatives of each required discipline. This
leads to a false conclusion, because rarely can a single team cover the
entire value chain. In the current theme of Agile scaling is this
particularly clear: many companies wanting to become agile believe they
merely need to educate their teams on agile methods to become an
agile business. By no means is this true. I am a fan of the organization
theorist Russell L. Ackoff from whom this timelessly valid statement
stems:
“And therefore, the performance of the whole is never the sum of the parts
taken separately, but it’s the product of their interactions.” (Ackoff &
Gharajedaghi 1984).
At the end of the ship experiment, before delving deeper into the
principles and practices of Kanban, I always ask participants what they
can take away from this experience and what conclusions they reached.
Following is a sample of the answers I receive:
I would like to come back, at this point, to the objection which some
participants bring up during the discussion about the flow experiment.
When we are talking about the use of Kanban, we are not talking about
industrial manufacturing, rather about knowledge work with
unforeseeable complexities. The term “Kanban” was made famous by
the Taiichi Ohno designed pull system at Toyota Production System and
simply means “signal card”. During the assembly of an automobile, these
signal cards showed that a production step had been completed and the
next delivery of parts could be received. Kanban systems, however, are
not an invention of the 20th Century. At the imperial garden in Tokyo,
the number of visitors allowed into the garden was controlled by the use
of tokens which were handed out at the entrance and collected again at
the exit (Anderson, 2010). This way, the number of visitors was limited
to prevent overcrowding in the garden, thus allowing each visitor the
chance for enjoyment and relaxation.
1. Visualizing
2. Limiting work in progress
3. Managing flow
4. Making policies explicit
5. Implementing fast feedback loops
6. Driving improvements based on methods and models
Let’s take a closer look at the practices that can bring a flow-based
approach to knowledge work.
Visualizing
In our flow experiment, when the unfinished ships piled up and the poor
guy at the end of the assembly line nearly broke his fingers folding
paper, it was quite obvious where the bottleneck in the system was.
Problems in the manufacture of physical products manifest themselves in
ways that are readily apparent, such as overfilled warehouses, poor
quality, or warning signals from the machines. In knowledge work, the
object of improvement is concealed in the head of the employee. The
usual scenario in knowledge work is someone sitting in front of a
computer and typing. What is not obvious, however, is what they are
working on, why they are working on it, how long have they been
working on it, how the work is going, and whether or not everything is
okay. We cannot see where, in our work process, we should apply
improvements, and hence, we cannot see if our work system is fulfilling
the expectations of the customer. By visualizing the work, relationships
in the process can be revealed allowing for better decision making.
The flow experiment vividly shows how a work system can calmly
operate when the amount of work started is limited. In the flow
experiment, we used a simple method to achieve a WIP limit: each
activity was allowed a maximum of one item at a time. This, however, is
not the only possible approach and, in many cases, a WIP limit of one
may not be feasible. What is the consequence when we work in a WIP
limited system? In the case of the Imperial Garden in Tokyo, the visitors
were forced to wait at the entrance if all of the entry tokens were in use
- the system had reached its WIP limit. A WIP limited work system
functions in much the same way: eventually, the point is reached in
which no new work can be started until work within the system is
completed. Hence, the motto of Kanban is “Stop starting, start finishing!”
The simple economic consideration is that one piece of work which is
100% completed brings more value than ten pieces of work which are
only 10% completed.
Managing Flow
Regardless of what you are optimizing, you are sending a signal to the
people with whom you work. Giving people space to focus on their work
communicates a sense of appreciation and trust. Ordering people to
work harder and micromanaging their work gives the subliminal
message that those people are not working hard enough for their
money. In Kanban, the workload is also considered, but generating value
is the primary concern. The focus lies in optimizing the workflow and not
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“Sure, people buying things for school. Grouchy Greenway was in,
he bought a lot of homework paper—pity the fellers in the third
grade. Ruth Binney’s scared of that ladder that rolls along—oh
bimbo, that’s my middle name. I can take a running jump and ride it
all the way to the back of the store.” He did not mention that he
played the harmonica for the girls to dance; he was a good sport and
did not tell tales out of school.
“I think Ruth and Annie Terris will miss you when you go to
Montana,” said Mr. Walton playfully.
“Such nonsense,” said Mrs. Walton. “Don’t put those ideas back
into his head.”
“I may go sooner than you think,” said Hervey.
He stood in the doorway to the dining room, pausing before
making his late evening attack on the apple barrel. A blithe, carefree
figure he seemed, his eyes full of a kind of gay madness. One
rebellious lock of hair sprawled over his forehead as he suddenly
pulled off his outlandish hat in deference to his stepmother. He never
remembered to do this as a regular duty; he remembered each time
separately, and then with lightning inspiration. He could not for the
life of him adapt his manners or phraseology to his elders.
“You know me, Al,” he said.
“Are you going to wash your face when you go in the kitchen?”
Mrs. Walton inquired.
“Sure, is there any pie?” he asked.
They heard him fumbling in the kitchen, then trudging up the
stairs.
“I think it would be just as well not to harp on Montana,” said Mrs.
Walton. “It’s odd how he hit on Montana.”
“One place is as good as another,” said Mr. Walton. “I’m glad it’s
Montana, it costs so much to get there. If he had Harlem in mind, or
Coney Island, I might worry.”
“He talks of them both,” said Mrs. Walton. “Yes, but I think his
heart is in the big open spaces, where the fare is about a hundred
dollars. If it were the Fiji Islands I’d be content.”
“Do you think he’d like to go to Europe with us next summer?”
Mrs. Walton asked. “I can’t bear to leave him alone.”
“No, I’m afraid he’d want to dive from the Rock of Gibraltar,” said
Mr. Walton. “He’ll be safe at Temple Camp.”
“He seems to have just no balance-wheel,” Mrs. Walton mused.
“When I look in his eyes it seems to me as if they saw joys, but never
consequences.”
“Sort of near-sighted in a way, eh?”
“I do wish he had stayed in the Scouts, don’t you?”
“No, I don’t,” said Mr. Walton in a matter-of-fact way. “He didn’t
see it. Some day he’ll see it, but it won’t be because anybody tells
him. The only way Hervey can learn that a tree is high is for him to
fall out of it. That’s what I mean by his being near-sighted in a way.”
“Do you think those railroad workers are a good set?”
“Oh, they’re a good lot; good, strong men.”
“Well, I don’t care for that Hinkey, do you?”
Mr. Walton did not go into raptures over anybody from New York.
He was a good New Englander. Nor had he been carried off his feet
by the “million dollar theatre.” But being a true New Englander he
was fair in judgment and of few words, especially in the field of
criticism. His answer to this last question was to resume reading his
book.
CHAPTER XXIV
IN THE SILENT NIGHT
In his own room Hervey opened the satchel which circumstances
had caused him to carry home. He thought that since kind fate had
brought the opportunity, he would like to give one exceedingly low
blast on a real musical instrument. He was astonished to find that
there was no musical instrument in the satchel, but a tin box
containing a small account book, a number of bills with a rubber
band around them, and an envelope containing some loose change.
He contemplated this treasure aghast. Counting the bills he found
them to be in amount a trifle over a hundred dollars. Never before
had he handled so much money. He was a little afraid of it. He shook
the sealed envelope which was fat with coins; that alone seemed to
contain a fortune. He glanced at the book and found it to full of
figures, entries of receipts and expenditures. On the flyleaf was
written:
Farrelton Merry Medley Serenaders,
Horton Manners, Treasurer.
He was greatly excited by this revelation. Here was a serious
business, a very grave consequence of a mischievous act. To be
sure, the bringing home of the satchel that did not belong to him
would have been the same in any case regardless of its contents.
But just the same the sight of so much money come into his
possession in such a way, frightened him. He had not thought of
such a thing as this. You see Hervey never thought at all—ever.
But he thought now. He had “colloped” (whatever that meant) the
treasury funds of this musical organization and he felt uneasy that he
should have to be the custodian of such a princely sum over night.
Money that did not belong to him! Would his wanton act be
construed as just harmless mischief? He had always wanted to have
a hundred dollars, but now he was almost afraid to touch it. He
replaced the box in the satchel and put the satchel under his bed.
Then he pulled it out again and put it in his dresser. Then he closed
and locked the window. When he was half undressed, he took the
satchel out of his dresser and stood holding it not knowing where to
put it. Then he put it back in the dresser.
He thought of going downstairs and telling his stepfather and
getting this awful fortune off his hands. But then he would have to tell
how he had come by it. Well, was that so very bad? Tripping a fellow
up? But would any one understand? He was very angry at the
deserter Hinkey. And he was equally angry that this dextrous little
tripping stunt should bear such consequences. It seemed to him that
even poor Horton Manners had taken a mean advantage.
He resolved that he would hunt up the musical treasurer in the
morning and return the satchel to him. He would hang on to it pretty
carefully going down the street, too. He did not know Horton
Manners, but he could find him. Of course, he would have to tell the
man that he was sorry he had tripped him up. And his explanation of
why he had carried the satchel home might sound rather queer. He
was not too considerate of the tripping treasurer. He was doomed to
a sleepless night on account of that “bimbo.” It was odd, more than it
was significant, that Hervey, who was afraid of no peril, was in panic
fear of this hundred and some odd dollars. He was just afraid of it.
Several times during that long night, he arose and groped his way
to the dresser to make sure that the satchel was safe. In the wee
hours of the night he was sorry that he had not hunted up Horton
Manners immediately after his escapade. But then he might have got
home too late. On every hand he seemed confronted with the high
cost of mischief.
He wondered if the tripping treasurer was searching for the culprit
with the aid of the police. He felt sure that no one dreamed he was
the culprit. Would they, might they not already, have traced Hinkey?
And what would Hinkey say? He had a reassuring feeling that
Hinkey could not be identified as one of the culprits. He certainly
would not tell on Hinkey. And he hoped that Hinkey would not be
incriminated and tell on him before he had a chance to return the
satchel. But surely Mr. Horton Manners had not gone home and to
bed, doing nothing about the theft of more than a hundred dollars. To
the young treasurer the affair was a plain robbery. Of course, Hervey
could not sleep when his imagination pictured the whole police and
detective force of the town aroused by a bold hold-up.
In the hour just before dawn Hervey, in his troubled half-sleep,
heard a knocking sound. Trembling all over, he pulled on his shirt
and trousers, crept stealthily downstairs and with a shaking hand
and pounding heart opened the front door.
CHAPTER XXV
LIFE, LIBERTY⸺
No one was there. Hervey looked out upon the dissolving night;
already the familiar scene was emerging in the gray drawn—the
white rail fence, the gravel walk with its bordering whitewashed
stones, the big whitewashed tub that caught the rain-water from the
roof trough. He smelled the mist. There was no one anywhere about;
no sound but the slow dripping into the tub. Drop, drop, drop; it was
from the rain of two or three days ago. How audible it was in the
stillness! He crept upstairs again and went to bed. But he did not
sleep. He wished that dreadful satchel were off his hands. Over a
hundred dollars!
He arose in the morning before the household was astir and stole
out with his guilty burden. He knew that Kipp’s Railroad Lunch was
open all night and that it had a telephone. He would look in the
telephone book for Manners. That way he would find the address.
He thought of leaving the satchel at the Manners’ door, ringing the
bell, and running away. The recovery of the money would end the
trouble. But suppose the satchel should be stolen again—not again;
but suppose it should be stolen? Of course, it had not been stolen
before.... Just the same he was desperate to get it off his hands.
Things looked strange about the station so early in the morning;
there were so few people to be seen, and no shops open. Somehow
the very atmosphere imparted a guilty feeling to Hervey. He felt a
little like a fugitive.
He could not find the name of Manners in the ’phone book and
thus baffled, he felt nervous. For while he was losing time, the victim
and the authorities were probably not wasting any time. He thought
he would wait in the station a little while and try to decide what to do.
He knew that the family of Denny Crothers, a scout, was identified
with the big white church. There was an idea! Denny would know
where Horton Manners lived, or could soon find out. Perhaps he
might even take Denny into his confidence. It is worth considering
that in his extremity he was willing not only to use, but to trust, this
scout whose troop he had repudiated.
Well, he would sit in the station a little while (it was still very early)
and if he could not think of any other plan, he would go to Denny’s
house. It would seem strange to the Crothers, seeing him there so
early. And it would seem stranger still to Denny to be approached by
an arch enemy. But Hervey’s troubled thoughts could not formulate
any better plan.
The station was not yet open and he strolled back and forth on the
platform where a very few people were waiting for the early train—a
workman wearing a reefer jacket and carrying a dinner-pail, a little
group of girls who worked in the paper mill at Brierly, and a couple of
youngish men near the end of the platform. These two were chatting
and one of them gave a quick glance at Hervey. It seemed to him
that the talk which followed had reference to himself. He wished that
the station would open, for it was a raw fall morning; there was a
penetrating chill in the air. He wanted to sit down; he was tired of
holding that dreadful satchel, yet he would not set it down for so
much as a moment.
Suddenly, a rattling old car drove up and a brisk young man in an
overcoat got out and dragged two huge oilcloth grips to the platform.
He looked as if he might be a salesman who had completed his
assault on Farrelton. He stopped and lighted a cigarette, and while
he was doing this the two men strolled over and spoke to him. He
seemed annoyed, then laughed as he took out some papers which
the two men examined. Hervey overheard the word hardware. And
he overheard one of the men say, “K.O., Buddy.” They handed back
the papers, nodded sociably, and moved away. It seemed by the
most casual impulse that they approached Hervey. But he trembled
all over.
“You’re out early, kiddo,” said one of them. “Waiting for the train?”
Why, oh why, did he flush and stammer and answer without
thinking? “No—y-yes—I guess it’s late, hey?”
“Guess not,” said the man with a kind of leisurely pleasantry.
“What you got in the bag, kiddo?”
“Bimbo, do I have to tell you?” Hervey demanded with the air of
one whose rights are outraged.
“Might be just as well,” said the man. “What’s your name
anyway?”
“My name is Hervey Willetts and you let go of that!” Hervey
shouted, tugging at the satchel. “You let go of that, do you hear!” He
not only pulled, but he kicked. “You let go of that or you’ll get in
trouble, you big⸺”
He was the center of a little group now; it was astonishing what a
number of persons were presently on the scene considering the few
early morning stragglers. The men put a quick end to Hervey’s ill-
considered struggle by taking the satchel while one held him firmly
by the collar. There is not a decent person in the world but rebels
against this collar grip which seems the very essence of effrontery.
Few boys so held will fail to use that potent weapon, the foot, and
Hervey, squirming, administered a kick upon his captor’s shin which
made the burly fellow wince and swear.
But it was all to no avail. They opened the satchel and noted its
contents. Hervey’s sense of indignity now quite obliterated every
other feeling. His struggles subsided into a wrathful sullenness; he
could not, or he would not, explain. He knew only that he was being
held and that fact alone aroused the demon in him. Of course, if
Walton could not manage him, and the Scouts could not win and
hold him, it was hardly to be expected that these low-bred detectives
could get closer to him than to hold him by the collar. A dog would
have understood him better. He was not the kind of boy to grab by
the collar.
These two detectives, apprised of the “robbery,” had taken their
stand at the station to note if any suspicious looking strangers were
leaving town on the first train. The boy had almost escaped, because
of his youth.
And escape was the one thought in his mind now. Twice he might
have explained; first to his good stepfather, and again to these
minions of the law. But they had the grabbing instinct and (oh, the
pity of it) had diverted his thoughts from honest restitution to a
maniac desire to beat them and baffle them, to steal indeed his
liberty if nothing else, and let the satchel with its fortune go hang! He
would steal; yes, he would forget all else now in this crazy mixup! He
would steal what was the very breath of life to him—his freedom. He
forgot the whole sorry business in this dominant thought—Horton
Manners, the satchel, everything. They had grabbed him by the
collar and he could feel the tightness in his neck.
As long as the squirrel has teeth to bite, he will bite. You cannot
tame a squirrel. The fact that he is caught stealing in your tree is
quite a secondary matter. Hervey Willetts never thought of stealing
anything in his life—but just the one thing.
Freedom!
So he did a stunt. With both hands he tore open his shirt in front,
and as he felt the loosening grip in back he sprang forward only to
feel a vice-like hand catch hold of his arm. And that hand he bit with
all his vicious might and main. Like lightning he dodged both men
and was off like a deer while the circle of onlookers stood aghast.
Around the end of the freight platform he sped and those who
hurried there beheld no sign of him—only a milk-can lying on its side
which he had probably knocked over.
Off bounded one of the detectives; the other lingered, sucking the
cut in his hand. He didn’t know much about wild life, poor man. This
was a kind of stealing he had never seen before—the only kind that
interested Hervey Willetts. The only thing that interested him—
freedom. As long as the squirrel has teeth to bite, he will bite.
You cannot tame a squirrel.
CHAPTER XXVI
OUT OF THE FRYING PAN
But they caught him, and caged him. They found him in the camp
of railroad workers near Clover Valley where he had spent a week or
so of happy days. And they left nothing undone. They investigated
the histories of that rough and ready crew, for they were after the
man higher up, the “master mind” in back of the robbery.
They unearthed the fact that one of them, Nebraska Ned, had
been a sailor and had deserted his ship to assist in a revolution in
South America. It was then that Hervey made a most momentous
decision. He abandoned Montana quite suddenly and chose South
America as the future theatre of his adventurous career.
No master mind was discovered, not even the true master mind,
Harlem Hinkey. He was not implicated and he neglected to uphold
the chivalrous honor of Harlem by coming forward as the originator
of the prank which had such a grave sequel. In the hearing in court,
Hervey never mentioned his name. And there you have Hervey
Willetts. You may take your choice between the “million dollar
theatre” and South America.
There was a pathos about the quiet resignation, the poise and
fairness in face of all, which Mr. Walton presented in that memorable
scene at the hearing. I like Mr. Walton, good man that he was. He
sat, a tall, gaunt figure, one lanky limb across the other, and listened
without any outward show of humiliation. His tired gray eyes, edged
by crow’s-foot wrinkles singularly deep, rested tolerantly on the prim
young man, Horton Manners, who was having his day in court with a
vengeance.
And Hervey, too, looked upon the young treasurer musician with
interest, with dismay indeed, for he recognized in him the very same
young man into whose lap he had stumbled on the train coming
home after his triumphal season at helpless Temple Camp. Horton
Manners looked down from his throne on the witness box, gazing
through Hervey rather than at him, and adjusted his horn spectacles
in a way that no one should do who is under fifty years old. He held
one lapel of his coat and this simple posture, so common with his
elders, gave him somehow the absurd look of an experienced
business man of about twenty-two years.
He was not in the least embarrassed. He testified that he was
treasurer of the Farrelton Band and confessed that he played a small
harp. If he had said that he played a drum nobody would have
believed him. He said that he had lived in Farrelton but a short while
and made his home with his married sister. Then, on invitation of the
likely looking young man representing the prosecutor, he told how
Hervey had mentioned on the train that he was going to Montana
and that he was going to “collop” the money to get there.
“And when did you next see him?”
“Not till this very day; in fact—here in court.”
“When he spoke of Montana, did he ask you how much it would
cost to get there?”
“He did, and I informed him that it would cost at least a hundred
dollars. I advised him against going.” There was a slight titter of the
spectators at this.
“I think that’s all, your Honor,” said the interrogator. “Since the boy
admits he took the satchel, we need not prove that.”
“Just one moment,” drawled Mr. Walton, drawing himself slowly to
his feet. He had employed no lawyer, and would not, unless his
stepson were held for trial on the serious charge of robbery.
“You say you live with your married sister?” he drawled
ruminatively.
“Mrs. Winton C. DeGraw, yes.”
“Then your name would not be in the ’phone book?”
“Presumably not.”
“Hmph.”
“I don’t see any significance in that,” said the young prosecutor.
“I simply want to find out if my boy has told me the truth,” said Mr.
Walton. “This isn’t a trial, of course. When I have satisfied myself
about certain matters I will ask the court to hear me. One more
question, Mr. Horton—I mean Mr. Manners. Do you know the
meaning of the word collop?”
“I never investigated it.”
“Well, I have investigated it,” said Mr. Walton, with the faintest
twinkle in his eye. Hervey looked rather surprisedly at his stepfather.
“It does not mean to steal. It means to earn or to get by the
performance of a foolhardy act—what boys call a stunt. Do you know
what a stunt is?”
“I suppose when I was knocked down⸺”
“You mean tripped.”
“Well, tripped. I suppose that was a stunt.”
“Exactly,” said Mr. Walton. “That’s all it was and nothing more. I
have talked with boys and I find that if a boy jumps from a high fence
to get another boy’s jack-knife, he collops it. It’s a long time since
you and I were boys, Mr. Horton Manners,” Mr. Walton added with a
smile. “Do you really want to charge this youngster with a felony?” he
continued in a tone of quiet kindness. “Isn’t the case hard enough
without that? Did you never perform a stunt?”
Oh, Hervey Willetts, if you had no thrill in that moment for the
patient, kindly, harassed man—your friend and counselor; then
indeed was there no hope for you! But he had a thrill. For the first
time in all his life his eyes filled and brimmed over as he looked at
the man who wanted only to make sure of him, to know that he was
not dishonest; who could stand for anything save that.
“I think, your Honor,” said Mr. Walton quietly, “that this affair
simmers down to a piece of mischief with an unintendedly serious
consequence. I know, of course, about the recent affair of the fire.
My boy gave himself up because he would not be despicable. He
does not lie, much less steal. I believe the story he told me; that he
thought the satchel contained a musical instrument and that he
intended to blow it and cause panic to those gathered in the church.
He saw the police officer, thought he was watched, and carried out
the part of innocence by bringing the satchel home. It proved an
elephant on his hands, a guilty burden to one really innocent. He told
me he could not find this young man’s name in the ’phone book and
it develops that the name is not there. I have here two men who saw
him looking in the ’phone book in a lunch room near the station⸺”
The judge interrupted and surprised him. “I think we need not
prolong this,” said he. “I think the boy had no intention of committing
a serious crime, or any crime at all. I believe the story he told when
arrested. I’d like to think the consequence will prove a lesson to him.
But do you think it will?”
“I’m afraid it will not,” said Mr. Walton. “And I may say now that it is
my intention to send him somewhere where he will be under rigid
discipline. I think I may be left to deal with him.”
“Well, the charge of robbery is dismissed,” said the judge. Then he
appeared to ruminate. “But the boy is still with us and there’s the
problem. This is the second time he has been brought into court. He
kicked up quite a rumpus and bit an officer. Where is this kind of
thing going to end?” He seemed kindly and spoke rather sociably
and not as an official. “Why don’t you put him in the Boy Scouts?” he
added.
“The Boy Scouts haven’t given him a knockout blow yet,” smiled
Mr. Walton. “I’m always hoping they’ll reach him. But I suppose
they’ll have to do a stunt that pleases him. Meanwhile, I’m going to
send him to a military school. It seems like a confession of defeat,
but I’m afraid it’s the only thing to do.”
The judge turned to Hervey. “You’d better go home with your
father,” said he. “And you take my advice and get into the Boy
Scouts while there is time, or the first thing you know you’ll land in a
reformatory. So you want to go to Montana, eh?”
“Sure, they have train robbers out there?” said Hervey.
“And how do you like having a hundred dollars that doesn’t belong
to you?”
“Nix on that stuff,” Hervey said gayly.
“Yet you like train robbers.”
“Bimbo, that’s different.”
Mr. Horton Manners, still sitting like an owl on the witness stand,
gazed at Hervey with a look of utter bewilderment.
“But in South America they have rebellions,” said Hervey.
“Well, let us have no more rebellion here,” smiled the judge.
And he winked at Mr. Walton.
CHAPTER XXVII
AT LAST
Of course, Hervey was never in any danger of being sent to prison
for robbery. As soon as he was arrested and made to tell his story,
Mr. Walton annoyed, but unruffled, saw the thing in its true light. He
went to the all night lunch room near the station and made sure that
Hervey had gone there; then he verified the boy’s statement that the
name of Manners was not in the ’phone book.
Quietly he even inquired among boys the meaning of collop. And
he learned on the highest juvenile authority that it did not signify
stealing nor an intent to steal. But Horton Manners had made the
charge of robbery and so the whole business had to be aired in
court. Mr. Walton was a man of few words; it would be interesting to
know what he really thought of Horton Manners.
As for Hervey, he quite forgot the affair within an hour of the time it
was over. He had been appalled to find himself the custodian of a
hundred and more dollars, but now that he had got it off his hands,
he went upon his way rejoicing. He never looked either backward or
forward; the present was good enough for him. It is significant that
he bore no malice toward Horton Manners. Once or twice he referred
to him as Arabella; then he forgot all about him. He could not be
bothered hating anybody; nor caring a great deal about anybody
either.
A few prominent townspeople financed the Firemen’s Carnival
and it was held after all. Shows and acts were engaged, the merry-
go-round revolved to the accompaniment of its outlandish music, the
peanut and lemonade men held form; you could see the five-legged
calf for “a dime ten cents,” and Biddle’s field presented a gala scene.
The boys of Farrelton went round and round trying to stab the brass
ring, they drank red lemonade and time after time gazed spellbound
at the five-legged calf.
Hervey did not care about seeing the five-legged calf unless he
could sneak in under the canvas fence, and he could not manage
that because of the man who kept shouting and slapping the canvas
with his stick. In common with all the other boys he was thrilled at the
sight of Diving Denniver who ascended a ladder to a dizzy height
and dived from it into a small tank directly below. Diving Denniver did
this thing twice a day, and his night performance was the more
thrilling because it was in the glare of a searchlight whose long beam
followed him in his slow ascent of the frail looking ladder and showed
him in a circle of light when he paused for one thrilling moment at the
top. He earned his living in this way, going around exhibiting at
carnivals and amusement parks, and he was the big feature of the
Farrelton carnival.
Hervey was not content simply to behold this daredevil exploit. He
saw it twice in the daytime and once at night, and he could not stand
the strain of being restricted to the enjoyment afforded a gaping
audience. That is where he differed from other boys. It was this
something in his nature that prevented him from reading boys’
books; he could not intrude into the hair-raising adventures and so
he had no use for them. The most thrilling stories were utterly dead
stuff to Hervey.
But here he could intrude. It was after he saw the night
performance that he felt the urge to penetrate to the hallowed spot
whence that enchanted daredevil emerged in his theatrically
cautious ascent of the ladder. The nature of the spectacular feat
required that it be performed at a distance from the body of the
carnival. As soon as the band started playing Up in the air mid the
stars, the long column of light was directed on the ladder which
appeared as if by magic a hundred yards or so from the thronged
area of the carnival. Every eye was then fixed with expectancy as a
white figure arose into view, moving up, up, up, to a little
surmounting platform. Then the sensational dive, after which the
pleasure seekers ate, drank and were merry again.
But Hervey could not go back to any merry-go-round after that,
and red lemonade had no solace for him. He wandered off from
those festoons of electric lights, away from the festive groups, into
the darkness. Before him, down near the edge of Biddle’s field, was
a tiny light. Soon he came to a rope fence which cut off the end of
the field from the public. Beyond this were wagons and huge cases
standing in the darkness, the packing and transporting paraphernalia
of the motley shows. In a monstrous truck that stood there the multi-
colored prancing horses of the merry-go-round would be loaded and
have a ride themselves.
On an upright of this rope fence was a sign which read
POSITIVELY NO ADMITTANCE. Hervey entered just where the sign
was placed. A hundred or so paces brought him to the holy of holies,
a little tent at the foot of the towering, slender ladder. In the darkness
its wire braces, extending away on each side to their anchorages in
the earth, could not be seen. Almost at the foot of the ladder was a
tank perhaps fifteen or eighteen feet square. Close by the tent was a
Ford sedan, and Hervey crept reverently up to it and read the words
on the spare tire cover DIVING DENNIVER. On the lower part of the
circumference was printed THREE HUNDRED FOOT DIVE. Diving
Denniver believed in advertising. In that tent lived the enchanted
mortal.
Hervey lingered in awe as a pilgrim might linger at a shrine before
entering. Then he walked rather hesitatingly to the open flap of the
tent. On a mattress which lay atop a huge red chest reclined Diving
Denniver in a bath robe. The chest had DIVING DENNIVER printed
on it, as also did a large leather grip, which bore the additional
information WONDER OF TWO CONTINENTS. If the world could
not see Diving Denniver on his dizzy perch, it at least could read
about him. Besides the makeshift divan the tent contained a rough
table formed by a red board laid on two saw horses.
On this was a greasy oil-stove and one or two plates and cups. In
his illicit wanderings, Hervey had at last trespassed through the
golden gates into heaven.
“I was walking around,” said he, rather unconvincingly.
Diving Denniver, a slim young man of about thirty, was smoking a
cigarette and looking over a magazine. It seemed incredible that he
should be thus engaged so soon after his spectacular descent.
“Bimbo, that was some pippin of a dive,” said Hervey. Then, as
Diving Denniver made no attempt to kill him, he ventured to add, “Oh
bambino, that’s one thing I’m crazy about—diving.”
“Didn’t the cop see you?” the marvel asked.
“Leave it to me,” said Hervey. “There isn’t any cop there anyway.
Cops, that’s one thing I have no use for—nix.”
“Yere?” queried Diving Denniver, aroused to slight amusement.
“Do you—do you feel funny?” Hervey ventured as he gazed upon
the wonder of two continents.
“Where did yer git that hat?” asked the god of the temple. “What’s
all them buttons you got on it?”
“I climbed way down a cellar shaft to get one of those buttons,”
said Hervey, anxious to establish a common ground of professional
sympathy with this celebrity. “That’s the one,” he indicated, as he
handed Denniver his hat; “the one that says VOTE FOR TINNEY. He
didn’t get elected and I’m glad, because his chauffeur’s a big fool; he
chased me, but he couldn’t catch me. Some of those holes I cut out
with a real cartridge shell, like you cut cookies. I bet you feel funny,
hey?”
“Yere?” said Diving Denniver, examining the hat. “Well, do you
think yer could go back up there where the big noise is and then
come back here again—without gettin’ stopped?”
“You mean you dare me to?”
Diving Denniver roused himself sufficiently to reach over to a box
and grope in the pocket of a pair of ordinary trousers, the kind that
mortals wear. Then he tossed a quarter to Hervey. “Chase yourself
back there and get a frankfurter,” he said; “get a couple of ’em. And
don’t leave the cop see yer.”
So the wonder of two continents ate frankfurters—and scorned
cops. More than that, he and Hervey were going to eat a couple of
frankfurters together. At last Hervey felt that he had not lived in vain.
CHAPTER XXVIII
THE LAW AGAIN
Hervey felt that he and Diving Denniver were pretty much alike
after all. The wonder of two continents beat all the boy scouts put
together. And he had now a fine precedent for his repudiation of
authority. Diving Denniver cared naught for cops and signs. Hervey
would have been glad to go into any court and cite this high
authority, confounding the powers with this frankfurter episode. He
was sorry he had not told Diving Denniver of his swimming across
the lake at Temple Camp (during rest period which was against the
rules). Instead of an honor he had received a reprimand for that. He
was a little afraid that some of the other boys would visit the wonder
in his tent, but in fact there wasn’t much danger of that. The wonder
was too much off the beaten track for most boys. Their thoughts did
not carry behind the scenes.
Hervey was now in much perplexity whether to witness the thrilling
exploit from the audience the next night or to view it from the
sanctum of the hero. In either case he intended to visit the remote
scene of enchantment with two frankfurters. He decided that he
would not demean himself by gazing at his hero with the idle throng.
He even negotiated an extra hour out from Mr. Walton in anticipation
of his second visit to the hermit of the ladder.
He could not possibly reach the place in the daytime, and besides,
he had to take up some bulbs for his stepmother the next day. For
this and other services he was to receive fifty cents. Twenty-five of
this would pay his admission to the carnival. With the other twenty-
five he intended to furnish forth a banquet of frankfurters for his hero
and brother daredevil. He could not afford to go twice in the day. He
had some thought of effecting an entrance over the high fence into
the field and having his entire fifty cents for the post-exploit feast. But
reckless as he was, he was cautious in this matter of reaching the
tent—there was so much at stake! So he decided to go respectably
in through the entrance and then cross the rope fence where the
“Positively No Admittance” sign was placed. It was not often that he
showed such a conservative spirit.
At half past eight, he found Diving Denniver strolling around in his
bathrobe outside the tent. Within, the odor of fried bacon and coffee
still lingered.
“You back again?”
“Sure, I want to see you from right here, and afterward I’m going
to go and get some more frankfurters. After you’re finished will you
let me go about ten or fifteen steps up the ladder and try it?”
Diving Denniver did not trouble himself to answer, but he ruffled
Hervey’s hair good-humoredly as he ambled about smoking his
cigarette. “Much of a crowd over there?” he asked.
“Oh bimbo, they’re all waiting. They stop dancing even when you
go up,” Hervey said.
“You’re a pretty slippery kid, all right, ain’t yer?” Denniver said.
“Ain’t there no guy up there at the rope?”
The words were scarcely out of his mouth when both he and
Hervey became aware of a policeman who had just come around the
side of the tent. But Hervey, though astonished, was not perturbed,
for he believed that the wonder of two continents would protect him.
One word from Diving Denniver and he would be safe. He even
ventured a defense himself.
“I’m going to do an errand for him,” he said.
“You can ask him yourself. So I’ve got a right to be here.”
But it appeared that it was Diving Denniver with whom the officer
had business. “Are you Charles McDennison?” he asked.
“Yere, what’s the dope?” the wonder asked, with a kind of
weariness in his voice.
Hervey was astonished, not to say shocked, that Diving Denniver
acknowledged the name of Charles McDennison.
“Let’s look at your permit,” said the officer.
Mr. McDennison entered the tent, presently emerging with a
paper.