Captain Joe stepped closer to Sanford’s side, and Caleb and Captain Bob Brandt, who stood on the outside of the circle of officers grouped around the tripod, leaned forward, listening intently. They, too, had noticed the change in Carleton’s manner. The other men dropped their shovels and tools, and edged up, not obtrusively, but so as to overhear everything. “Is this the reason you have withheld the certificate, of which the contractor complains?” asked the general, with a tone in his voice as of a judge interrogating a witness. Carleton bowed his head meekly in assent. “I can’t sign for work that ’s done wrong, sir.” Captain Joe made a movement as if to speak, when Sanford, checking him with a look, began, “The superintendent is right so far as he goes, general, but there is another clause in the contract which he seems to forget. I’ll quote it,” drawing an important-looking document from his pocket and spreading it out on the top of a cement barrel: “‘Any dispute arising between the United States engineer, or his superintendent, and the contractor, shall be decided by the former, and his decision shall be final.’ If the level of this concrete base does not conform to the plans, there is no one to blame but the superintendent himself.” Sanford’s flashing eye and rising voice had attracted the attention of the ladies as well as that of their escorts. They ceased talking and played with the points of their parasols, tracing little diagrams in the cement dust, preserving a strict neutrality, like most people overhearing a quarrel in which they have no interest, but who are alert to lose no move in the contest. Sanford would have liked less publicity in the settlement of the matter, and so expressed himself in a quick glance toward the guests. This anxiety was instantly seen by the major, who, with a tact that Sanford had not given him credit for, led the ladies away out of hearing on pretense of showing them some of the heavy masonry. The engineer-in-chief looked curiously at Carleton, and the awakened light of a new impression gleamed in his eye. Sanford’s confident manner and Carleton’s momentary agitation over Sanford’s statement, upsetting for an instant his lamblike reserve, evidently indicated something hidden behind this dispute which until then had not come to the front. “I’ll take any blame that ’s coming to me,” said Carleton, his meekness merging into a dogged, half-imposed-on tone, “but I can’t be responsible for other folks’ mistakes. I set that level myself two months ago, and left the bench-marks for ’em to work up to. When I come out next time they’d altered them. I told ’em it wouldn’t do, and they’d have to take up what concrete they’d set and lower the level again. They said they was behind and wanted to catch up, that it made no difference anyhow, and they wouldn’t do it.” General Barton turned to Sanford and was about to speak, when a voice rang out clear and sharp, “That’s a lie!”