Part 25 (1/2)
”Can't say. It'd be a good thing to have him do it all the time if work was going on. Had a letter from McGraw, that man I put in as general foreman. He says everything is frozen up tight; may keep so for two weeks or more.”
”You've laid off most the force?”
”No, not even the Slovaks.”
Mr. Leslie frowned. ”Two or three weeks at full pay, and no work?
That's an item.”
”Hard enough to hold together a competent force on such winter work as that,” rejoined Griffith. ”Almost impossible with your kid-glove Resident Engineer. I've said nothing all this time; but he's made some of my best men quit--bridge workers that've stayed by me for years.
Said they couldn't stand for his d.a.m.ned swell-headedness, not even to oblige me.”
”Well, well, I leave it to you. Do the best you can. It's a bad bargain, but we've got to go through with it. Only time the young fool ever showed a glimmer of sense was when he had his father's lawyers drew his contract with me. My lawyers can't find a flaw in it.”
”Not even diamond cut diamond, eh?” cackled Griffith. He ceased sc.r.a.ping at his pipe to peer inquisitively into the bowl. ”What I've never been able to figure out is how he happened to solve the problem of that central span. Don't think you've ever realized what a wonderful piece of work that was. It's something new. Must have been a happy accident--must have come to him in what I'd call a flash of intuition or genius. He sure hadn't it in him to work such a thing out in cold blood.”
”Genius?--_pah!_” scoffed Mr. Leslie.
”Hey?” queried Griffith, glancing up sharply. ”What else, then?”
”I've recently been given reason to suspect--” began Mr. Leslie. He paused, hesitated, and refrained. ”But we'll talk of that later. First, my reason for sending for you. I understand that you know this man Blake, who, unfortunately, was the person that saved my daughter.”
Griffith replied with rather more than his usual dryness. ”If I've got a correct estimate of what Miss Leslie had to be pulled through, it's lucky that Tom Blake was the man.”
”You've a higher opinion of him than I have.”
”We've worked together.”
”He's in your office now,” snapped Mr. Leslie.
”Yes, and he stays there long as he wants,” rejoined Griffith in a quiet matter-of-fact tone. ”It's your privilege to hire another consulting engineer.”
Mr. Leslie brought his s.h.a.ggy eyebrows together in a perplexed frown.
”Must say, I can't understand how the fellow makes such friends. Your case is hardly less puzzling than that of the Earl of Avondale.”
”Hey? Oh, you mean young Scarbridge. He seems to be one of the right sort--even if he _is_ the son of a duke. But if Tommy hadn't introduced him as a friend--”
”We're talking about Blake,” interrupted Mr. Leslie. ”I want your help.”
”Well?” asked Griffith warily.
”He has put me under obligations, and refuses to accept any reward from me. It's intolerable!”
”Won't accept anything, eh? Well, if he says he won't, he won't. No use b.u.t.ting your head against a concrete wall.”
”He's a fool!”
”I'd hardly agree as to that. He doesn't always do as people expect him to. Same time, he usually has a reason.”