The look which darkened Jennings's face when his instructions to Woods were countermanded surprised Bruce. It was more than chagrin, it was--ugly. It prejudiced Bruce against him as all his puttering had failed to do. The correctness or incorrectness of his contention concerning the cross-arm seemed of less importance than the fact that Bruce's interference had impaired his dignity--belittled him in the eyes of the crew. "Am I the constructin' ingineer, or ain't I? If I am, I'm entitled to some respect." More than ever Jennings looked like a bear pouting in a trap. "What's your dignity got to do with it?" Bruce demanded. "I'm General Manager, when it comes to that, and I've been packing cross-arms like a mule. This is no time to talk about what's due you--_get results_. This pay-roll can't go on forever, Jennings. There's an end. At this rate it'll come quick. You know what the success of this proposition means to me--my first, and, I beg of you don't putter any more; get busy and put up those machines. You say that 50 horse-power motor has got to be rewound--" "One man can't work on that alone," Jennings interrupted in a surly tone. "I can't do anything on it until that other electrician comes in." "Get Smaltz to help you." "Smaltz! What does he know. Him holding out for them four-be-five cross-arms shows what he knows." "Sometimes I think he knows a good deal more than he lets on." "Don't you think it," Jennings sneered. "He don't know _half_ as much as he lets on. Jest one of them rovin' windjammers pickin' up a little smatterin' here and there. Run a power-house in the Coeur d'Alenes. Huh--what's that! This here feller that I got comin' is a 'lectrical genius. He's worked with me on drudgers, and I know." Glaring at the victorious carpenter who, being human, sent back a grin, Jennings went to the power-house, mumbling to the last that "four-be-five's" would never hold. "I think I go now I think." "Toy!" The old Chinaman at his elbow was dressed for travelling in a clean but unironed shirt; and his shoes had been newly hobbed. His round, black hat was pulled down purposefully as far as his ears would permit. All his possessions were stuffed into his best overalls with the legs tied around his waist and the pair of attached suspenders worn over his shoulders so that at first glance he presented the startling appearance of carrying a headless corpse pick-a-back. Bruce looked at him in astonishment. He would as soon have thought of thus suddenly losing his right arm. The Chinaman's yellow face was impassive, his snuff-brown eyes quite blank. "I go now," he repeated. "But Toy--" There are a special set of sensations which accompany the announcement of the departure of cooks, Bruce felt distinctly when his heart hit his boots. To be without a cook just now was more than an annoyance--it was a tragedy--but mostly it was the Chinaman's ingratitude that hurt. "I go," was the stubborn answer. Bruce knew the tone.