Engineers -- Fiction; Grain elevators -- Design and construction -- Fiction; Psychological fiction
But the section boss had received instructions that caused him to be
wide-awake, day or night, to what was going on in the neighborhood of
Calumet K. Half an hour after the work was begun, the picket line up the
track signalled that something was coming. There was no sound of bell or
whistle, but presently Bannon saw a hand car spinning down the track as
fast as six big, sweating men could pump the levers. The section boss had
little to say; simply that they were to get out of there and put up that
fence again, and the quicker the better. Bannon tried to tell him that the
railroad had consented to their putting in the gallery, that they were
well within their rights, that he, the section boss, had better be careful
not to exceed his instructions. But the section boss had spoken his whole
mind already. He was not of the sort that talk just for the pleasure of
hearing their own voices, and he had categorical instructions that made
parley unnecessary. He would not even tell from whom he had the orders. So
the posts were lugged out of the way and the fence was put up and the men
scattered out to their former work again, grinning a little over Bannon's
discomfiture.
Bannon's next move was to write to Minneapolis for information and
instructions, but MacBride, who seemed to have all the information there
was, happened to be in Duluth, and Brown's instructions were consequently
foggy. So, after waiting a few days for something more definite, Bannon
disappeared one afternoon and was gone more than an hour. When he strode
into the office again, keen and springy as though his work had just begun,
Hilda looked up and smiled a little. Pete was tilted back in the chair
staring glumly out of the window. He did not turn until Bannon slapped him
jovially on the shoulders and told him to cheer up.
"Those railroad chaps are laying for us, sure enough," he said. "I've been
talking to MacBride himself--over at the telephone exchange; he ain't in
town--and he said that Porter--he's the vice-president of the C. & S. C.--
Porter told him, when he was in Chicago, that they wouldn't object at all
to our building the gallery over their tracks. But that's all we've got to
go by. Not a word on paper. Oh, they mean to give us a picnic, and no
mistake!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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