Part 65 (1/2)

answered Blake coolly. ”That train has waited long enough. You look to the steel. Load the first sections for this end on the outermost car.

We can cut it off the train at the towers.”

At McGraw's nod, he scratched off an order and sent a man running with it to the waiting train. Very shortly the three outermost cars came rolling toward him, pushed by the switch crew and a gang of laborers.

Their weight was several times offset by the weight of flooring material that had already been hurled from the bridge.

Blake tested the force of the wind, noted the distance that the main traveller had moved sh.o.r.eward, and promptly ordered the work of destruction to cease. Some forty or fifty thousand dollars' worth of material had already gone over into the strait, and he was too much of an engineer to permit unnecessary waste.

The electro-magnetic crane of the smaller traveller was already swinging up a number of pieces of structural steel to load on the cars as they rolled out to the extreme end of the service-track. McGraw came hurrying to take charge of the eager loading gang. Blake went out past them to the end of the overhang, and perching himself on a pile of steel, began to jot down figures and small diagrams on the back of his pad.

He was still figuring when a cheer from the carloaders caused him to look up. The cars, which had been stacked with steel to their utmost capacity, were being connected with the rear of the train by means of a wire rope. In response to the signals of McGraw, the engine started slowly sh.o.r.eward.

Before the train had moved many yards the slack of the steel rope was taken up. It tautened and drew up almost to a straight line, so tense that it sang like a violin string in the sharp wind gusts. Then the steel-laden cars creaked, started, and rolled sh.o.r.eward after the train, groaning under their burden. The men all along the bridge raised a wild cheer.

Blake stepped back beside McGraw.

”Well, Mac, guess we've turned the trick,” he said.

”Close,--huh?” replied the general foreman, holding up his hand to the wind.

”Close enough,” agreed Blake. ”She might have gone any minute since we came out. _Whee!_--if I hadn't headed off that train of steel! Well, a miss is as good as a mile. She'll stand now. Next thing is to connect the span.”

”Huh?” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed McGraw. ”Ain't goin' t' tackle that, Mr. Blake, 'fore reinforcin' bottom-chords?”

”What! Wait for auxiliary bracing to come on from the mills? Not on your life! Once connected, she'll be unbreakable--all strains and stresses will be so altered as to give a wide margin of safety, spite of that d.a.m.ned skunk!”

”Huh?” queried McGraw.

Blake's lips tightened grimly, but he ignored the question.

”We'll drive the work on twelve-hour s.h.i.+fts,--double pay and best food that can be bought. Divide up the force now, and turn in with your s.h.i.+ft--those who most need sleep.”

CHAPTER x.x.xIV

”THE GUILTY FLEE”

In the midst of the wild flurry of work on the bridge, an engine from the junction had puffed into the switching yards with a single coach, the private car of H. V. Leslie.

Despite the shrill whistle that signalled its approach, no one ran out to meet the special,--no workman appeared in the midst of the sheds and material piles to stare at the unexpected arrival. Irritated at this inattention, Mr. Leslie swung down from his car, closely followed by Lord James.

”What can this mean?” he demanded. ”Not a man in sight. Entire place seems deserted.”

”Quite true,” agreed Lord James. ”Ah, but out on the bridge--great crowd of men working out there. Seems to be fairly swarming with men.”

”So there are--so there are. Yet why so many out there, and none in the yards?”

”Can't say, I'm sure. I daresay we'll learn at the office.”

”Learn what, Mr. Scarbridge?” asked Dolores, who had popped out into the car vestibule. Without waiting for an answer or for his a.s.sistance, she sprang down the steps, waving her m.u.f.f. ”Come on, Vievie. Don't wait for mamma.”