England -- Fiction; Orphans -- Fiction; Runaway children -- Fiction; Young men -- Fiction
The first thing noticed was that the window was open; and annoyed that
the mist of a damp morning should be admitted, I hurriedly closed it,
thinking then no more of the matter.
It wanted quite an hour to the time appointed, and the interval was
employed in superintending the alteration of a few bolts and nuts, which
Mr Girtley wanted tightened, and as I watched the great engineer, a man
whose name was now an authority throughout Europe, and who was
constantly refusing contracts, pull off his coat, take a spanner, and
help his men, I began to realise that it was his personal attention to
small matters and his watchful supervision that had raised him to his
present position.
"Nice hands!" he said, laughing, as he held them out all over blacklead
and oil. "Wise lad, you were, Tom, to leave it, and take to your
parchment and pounce."
There was a covert sneer in his words, which Tom seemed to take, for he
said quickly:
"Perhaps, father, I may help you as much with my brain as I used to help
you with my hands."
"Yes, yes, of course, my boy, and we must have lawyers. Well, Grace,
how do you feel about it now?"
"I think I'd ease that nut a little, sir," I said, pointing to one part
of the machine.
"Why?" he said sharply.
"I fancy that there will be so much stress upon that wheel that it will
be better to give it as much freedom as we can, and, perhaps I am wrong,
sir, but it strikes me--" I glanced at Hallett, and felt the blood flush
to my face, for I felt that what I was about to say must sound very
cruel to him.
"Go on, Antony," he said kindly; but I saw that he was very pale.
"It strikes you?" said Mr Girtley.
"That this is the weak part of the contrivance. Here falls the stress;
and, when it is running at full speed, I feel sure that the slight
structure of this portion will tell against the machine doing good work,
and it may result in its breaking down."
"Go on," said Mr Girtley bluntly; for I had stopped, feeling
uncomfortable at the dead silence that had fallen upon the group.
"It is not a question of efficiency," I said, "but one of detail, of
substantiality and durability. At first sight it seems as if it would
make the machine cumbersome, but I feel sure that if we made that shaft
and its wheel four times the thickness--that is to say, excessively
massive, we should get a firm, solid regularity in the working, a fourth
of the vibration, and be able to dispense with this awkward fly-wheel.
My dear Hallett," I exclaimed hurriedly, as I saw how his pallor had
increased, "pray forgive me. I was quite led away by my thoughts.
These are but suggestions. I daresay I was wrong."
"Wrong!" exclaimed Mr Girtley, catching my hand in his, and giving it a
grip that made me wince. "Every word you have said, my boy, is worth
gold. Tom, I'd have given ten thousand pounds to have heard you speak
like that."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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