David caught the eastbound engine, but he did not stop off at the headquarters camp. That was because Crawford, the concrete bridge builder, was at the yard platform to climb to the cab with a bit of news. Under new orders, inspectors had been placed at the three bridges in Crawford’s section, and they were in relays so that there was hardly an hour in the three shifts when one of them was not on duty. Crawford was looking for Plegg, but when he found that the first assistant was unattainable, he unburdened himself to the chief, setting forth the hard conditions. “Well?” said David, while the engine halted. “It’s--er--making it sort of difficult for me,” said Crawford, unwilling to go much deeper into the matter in the face of Plegg’s inhibition forbidding detail talk with the boss. “Difficult? How?” “Why--er--there can’t very well be two bosses on a job, and when I give an order and Strayer countermands it----” “Do you mean to say that Strayer is trying to boss your job?” “It amounts to that.” David turned to the engine-driver. “Run us down to bridge Number Two, Pete,” he ordered, and the heavy construction locomotive lumbered down through the yard and out over the switches. The run was a short one, and at the bridge approach David and his assistant got off to walk over to the new structure. The bridge plant was well lighted by carbide gas flares, and prominent on the form stagings was the big figure of Strayer, the railroad inspector. David Vallory called up to him. “Come down here a minute, Strayer; I want to talk to you,” he said. When the railroad engineer joined him he led the way to the cement platform, where the noise of the mixer was less insistent. “What’s the idea, Strayer?” he demanded. The big man did not affect to misunderstand. “You know perfectly well, Vallory; or if you don’t, you ought to. Crawford’s scamping these bridges shamelessly. He is scanting the ‘mix’, and also the reinforcing steel. I’ve caught him at it.” “Why didn’t you complain to me?” “What the devil good would it do? I’ve yelled at you people for everything, and you patch one hole only to leave another.” “I suppose you have your orders to come here and take the direction of the work out of the hands of my man?” “I have orders to see that you don’t pull any more bones on us, if I have to eat and sleep on the job to prevent it. And I’m like little old Casabianca, Vallory; I obey orders.” “Who gave you the orders?” “Lushing: he’s back now.” “Don’t you know that he’s a damned crook, himself, Strayer?” The square-jawed, bearded inspector laughed grimly. “Set a thief to catch a thief, eh?” he grinned. “Between us two, Vallory, I haven’t much use for Lushing; none at all, personally. But he’s the boss.” “Do you know where he is now?” “Yes; he’s over at Powder Can: makes his headquarters in the Hophra House.” “I take it you’re not particularly struck on standing over Crawford this way, day and night, are you?”