"I wouldn't even mind his riding," Bruce said to himself ironically, "if he wouldn't drag his feet."
He was hoping with all his heart that the much discussed cross-arms would hold, for when the wires were up and stretched across the river he would feel that the bread-crumb had at least moved.
When Bruce crossed to the work the next morning, the "come-along" was clamped to the transmission wire and hooked to the block-and-tackle. Naturally Jennings had charge of the stretching of the wire and he selected Smaltz as his assistant.
All the crew, intensely interested in the test, stood around as Jennings, taciturn and sour and addressing no one but Smaltz, puttered about his preparations.
Finally he cried: "Ready-O!"
The wire tightened and the slack disappeared under Smaltz's steady pull. The carpenter and the crew watched the cross-arm anxiously as the strain came upon it under the taut wire. Their faces brightened as it held.
Smaltz looked at Jennings quizzically.
"More?"
"You ain't heard me tell you yet to stop," was the snarling answer.
"Here goes, then." Smaltz's face wore an expressive grin as he put his strength on the rope of the block-and-tackle, which gave him the pull of a four-horse team.
Bruce heard the cross-arm splinter as he came up the trail through the brush.
Jennings turned to Woods and said offensively: "Old as you are, I guess I kin learn you somethin' yet."
The carpenter's face had turned white. With a gesture Bruce stopped his belligerent advance.
"Try the next one, Jennings," he said quietly.
Once more the slack was taken up and the wire grew taut--so taut it would have twanged like a fiddle-string if it had been struck. Jennings did not give Smaltz the sign to stop even when the cross-arm cracked. Without a word of protest Bruce watched the stout four-by-five splinter and drop off.
"There--you see--I told you so! I knowed!" Jennings looked triumphantly at the carpenter as he spoke. Then, turning to the crew: "Knock 'em off--every one. Now I'll do it right!"
Not a man moved and for an instant Bruce dared not trust himself to speak. When he did speak it was in a tone that made Jennings look up startled: "You'll come across the river and get your time." His surprise was genuine as Bruce went on--"Do you imagine," he asked savagely, trying to steady his voice, "that I haven't intelligence enough to know that you've got to allow for the swaying of the trees in the wind, for the contraction and expansion of heat and cold, for the weight of snow and sleet? Do you think I haven't brains enough to see when you're deliberately destroying another man's work? I've been trying to make myself believe in you--believe that in spite of your faults you were honest. Now I know that you've been drawing pay for months for work you don't know how to do. I can't see any difference between you and any common thief who takes what doesn't belong to him. Right here you quit! Vamoose!" Bruce made a sweeping gesture--"You go up that hill as quick as the Lord will let you."