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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/78753-0.txt b/78753-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7e9c865 --- /dev/null +++ b/78753-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10057 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78753 *** + + + + + + +[Frontispiece: "THAT IS WHERE IT HAPPENED" (See p. 85)] + + + + WEB OF STEEL + + + By + + CYRUS TOWNSEND BRADY + Author of "The Chalice of Courage," "The Island of Surprise," etc., + + and + + CYRUS TOWNSEND BRADY, JR. + Civil Engineer + + + + ILLUSTRATED BY THE KINNEYS + + + + NEW YORK CHICAGO TORONTO + Fleming H. Revell Company + LONDON AND EDINBURGH + + + + + Copyright, 1916, by + FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY, + + + New York: 158 Fifth Avenue + Chicago: 17 N. Wabash Ave. + Toronto: 25 Richmond St., W. + London: 21 Paternoster Square + Edinburgh: 100 Princes Street + + + + + To + MYRA + Daughter--Wife + + + + +PREFACE + +"Web of Steel," as those who read will see, is a book for men, about +men, and written by men.* The authorship is placed in the plural +advisedly. The book is a real collaboration. In the minds of the +writers there is a further pleasant association in the fact that it +is a book about a father and son by a father and son, although no one +must identify the writers with the characters in the story because of +that relationship. + + +* Yet with true masculine inconsistency it is dedicated to a woman! + + +It is said that the success of a book, like the success of almost +everything else that man at least undertakes, depends upon women; +that women buy, read, discuss, and promote a novel, and if the book +has no appeal to women it is forever doomed. The authors have at +least proved themselves men of courage, the publishers likewise, for +it cannot be too insistently set forth that this is primarily a book +for men. The authors hope that even with that expressed limitation +it may nevertheless appeal to women in some measure, especially those +who would fain enjoy--the authors are careful not to say +usurp!--masculine place and function. Let no one imagine, either, +the authors hasten to assure those who may honor them by reading this +preface, that there are no women in the book. On the contrary the +fortunes of at least one of the men and the fate of the other are +woven around the eternal feminine whom the authors have striven to +make as feminine and charming, as appealing and delightful, as their +large experience with the other sex permits and warrants! + +For the rest, whatever may be said of the fiction the authors rest +confident in the engineering. Again let there be no misapprehension, +this is a novel not a treatise; who runs may read, if he does not run +too fast, and no scientific course is necessary for the comprehension +of the story. The authors disavow any intention of picturing any +engineers alive or dead, or any particular bridge or dam, in any +particular locality. The whole thing is a work of the imagination +except the calculations of the engineer, which are exact when not +empiric! + +The book is the result of genuine co-operation and accommodation. +Father and son contended together in affection, albeit sometimes +rather sharply, as to what should go in and what should come out. +They are happy to have arrived at a substantial agreement which, +while it satisfied neither author completely, yet produced a +harmonious and consecutive story, with neither too much nor too +little of the personality of either inserted or withdrawn to mar its +symmetry. Now let all mankind read! + + CYRUS TOWNSEND BRADY, _Father_; + CYRUS TOWNSEND BRADY, _Son_. + + THE HEMLOCKS, PARK HILL, + _Yonkers, N. Y._ + + + + + CONTENTS + + + I + + _BRIDGE_ + + I. Love of Woman + II. The Other Passions of the Engineer + III. The Witness for the Defense + IV. The Portage Through the Dust + V. Fall and Revelation + VI. They Cross the Bridge Together + VII. The Colonel Makes Conditions + VIII. The Lovers Make Pictures on Paper and Heart + + + II + + _C_-10-_R_ + + IX. The Deflection in the Member + X. The Son of His Father Indeed + XI. The Death Message on the Wire + XII. The Failure + XIII. The Woman's Choice + XIV. For the Honor of the Son + XV. For the Honor of the Father + XVI. The Unaccepted Renunciation + XVII. That Which Lay Between + + + III + + _DAM_ + + XVIII. Picket Wire and Kicking Horse + XIX. The New Rodman + XX. The Valley of Decision + XXI. Marshaling the Evidence + XXII. Working Up + XXIII. The Former and the Latter Rain + XXIV. The Battle + + + IV + + _SPILL-WAY_ + + XXV. The Ancient Art of Fascination + XXVI. Once More Unto the Work + XXVII. Brute Force or Finesse + XXVIII. The Battle from Above + XXIX. The Victors + XXX. The Testimony of the Dead + XXXI. At Last to the Stars + + + + +I + +BRIDGE + + +[Illustration: (Sketch of parts of a cantilever bridge)] + + + +I + +LOVE OF WOMAN + +If meetings only lived up to their anticipations, life would be a +succession of startling climaxes. It had been some months since +Meade had seen Helen Illingworth. He had dreamed of meeting her +every day and had pictured the meeting differently and more +rapturously after every letter. When Abbott had received a telegram +from Colonel Illingworth stating that he and his party, including his +daughter, would arrive the next day, all the anticipations of months +had been concentrated and Meade had imagined a romantic meeting in +which the longings and desires of the period of separation would all +be summed up in one dramatic moment. As a matter of fact the whole +thing was casual and ordinary to the last degree. It always is. + +In the first place, Dr. Severence, a retired physician, who was +vice-president and financial man, and Curtiss, the chief engineer of +the Bridge company, were hard upon Miss Illingworth's heels as she +stepped down from the car to the station platform. He saw her, as it +were, surrounded by prosaic men. None of these men was a possible +rival. Each was old enough to be her father so he could not really +be jealous of them except in so far as he was even jealous of the +wind that kissed her cheek--at least that is the way he put it to +himself. There was a vein of poetry in this engineer, as there is in +every man who achieves in whatever profession, on whatever field of +work he may adventure. Gradgrind does nothing great, he mounts to no +heights, he wins nothing really worth the winning by his worship of +the facts of life. + +Meade had no time to indulge his disappointment. He was busy in the +exchange of greetings. The woman he loved got the same welcome and +the same handshake as her father and the other two men. The +common-place conversation is scarcely worth recording. It was not +until big Abbott, who had been belated by some sudden demand of work, +came sweeping down the platform to engage the attention of the men +that the anxious Meade had a moment with the girl herself. + +Now Helen Illingworth had also been seeing visions, dreaming dreams +and forecasting possibilities, so that she had been as disappointed +as he. The only real satisfaction that either of them could take in +the situation lay in the fact that the other was there. It was +midsummer and the girl was dressed in some light filmy fabric which +well became her radiant beauty. Meade could look at a bit of +structural steel work and tell you all about it. All that he could +have told you about the dress she wore, was that it was exquisitely +appropriate, and presented an appearance of amazing simplicity for +anyone who had the command of unlimited means for the adornment of +her person. He could have figured out the cost of the most +stupendous structure, but it never occurred to him that with a great +price to a great artist Helen Illingworth had obtained that look of +delightful simplicity. The gown he thought so modest and +inexpensive, really represented the highest reach of the sartorial +art as it is practiced by, and upon, fair womankind. He could not +know that Miss Illingworth had spent æons of time and riches in +proportion, with the assistance of the best dressmaker in New York, +over this very gown, and what was more to the point, for this very +purpose. + +Her maid had lifted her eyebrows behind her mistress' back when she +had been bidden to get out this dress for a visit to the wild and +primitive section of the country in which the great International +Bridge was being erected. The woman knew, from what she had heard, +that there was nobody there except engineers, contractors, +supervisors, and workmen, and why all this superb and costly finery +should be wasted on the desert air she could not see. Even her +father, who was ordinarily indifferent to what his daughter wore, +noticed it and commented on it when she appeared. + +"I've had the dress now for over a month," responded Helen in answer +to his observation, "and I want to wear it once at least before it +goes out of fashion." + +It was not wasted on Meade, she decided, as she caught his rapturous +glance; that is, the details were, but the effect produced was +entirely satisfactory and quite what she had expected. She had never +looked lovelier. She was not a fragile, ethereal woman; quite the +reverse. That was one of ten thousand things Meade liked about her. +She was modern and up-to-date in every good sense of the word. She +could do all those athletic and practical things that modern young +women can do and she could do them well. Was it riding, or swimming, +or golfing, or driving a speed-boat or motor-car, she took them as an +ordinary girl takes bridge or the latest fantastic dance. + +Meade was intensely practical and efficient. He could do all of +those things himself and many more and he liked to do them, and that +is one reason why he had been attracted to her; yet not for that +alone did he love her. On that soft summer afternoon she looked as +subtly delicate as every man would at one time or another have the +woman he loves appear, and as far removed from things strenuous as if +in another world! Distance and absence had but intensified the man's +passion. He awoke to a sudden and overwhelming realization that he +had been a fool in that he had utterly failed even in his most ardent +thought to appreciate the true beauty and rare quality of this +wondrous woman. + +A wise philosopher has pointed out that humanity may be looked at +from three points of view. There is the real John, there is the John +that John thinks John is, and there is the John the world thinks John +is. Meade felt that he represented all three when he looked at Helen +Illingworth. Amid the emotions which the sight of her inspired in +him, as he answered mechanically the natural and ordinary questions +put to him by the men of the party before Abbott came on the scene +and relieved him of that necessity, came a swift feeling of despair. +He was wearing the rough clothes, flannel shirt, khaki trousers, +heavy shoes and leggings, which were his habitual use at work. +Contrasted with her filmy and delicately colored fabric his well-worn +olive-drab habiliments stood forth hideously. That is, he thought +so, and the contrast somehow seemed typical of the difference between +them as he considered her. + +What was he to aspire to such loveliness? In what way did rough, +rude, he measure up to such a graceful and dainty divinity? He was +as humble as true lovers, of the male persuasion, usually are. She +on the contrary was as arrogant as the opposite sex frequently is. +The statement is made from the pre-matrimonial period! Yet, had he +but known it, she was as pleased as he with the appearance of the +beloved. + +There was the careless insouciance of conscious power in the bearing +of the engineer which differentiated him from most of the men with +whom she had been thrown in contact during her life--the exceedingly +well-trained, the exceedingly well-groomed young manhood of the +present day. She recalled that even when her friends went for a hard +day in the woods from the big house on the mountain above Martlet +they always seemed to be clothed in outing togs immaculately new. +Obviously the hand of little use with its daintier touch, was not +that appertaining to Meade. He was made for mastery and for manful +work, even as she for, in that dress, softness and sweet attractive +grace. He looked strength and the fact that he was power in +submission, and strength in subordination, and so obviously hers to +command, gave her a delicate thrill; the same sort of thrill the +great engine-driver feels when he lays his hand on the throttle. It +is not only Budge and Toddy who love to see the wheels go 'round. +And everybody wants to set them in motion. She looked covertly upon +him as a lion-draped Omphale might have looked at Hercules, even +though Meade bore no distaff in his hand. + +The International Bridge was the biggest thing of the kind the +Martlet Company or any other American structural plant had ever +undertaken. It had been a constant topic of conversation wherever +her father was. She had heard all about it and although, strictly +speaking, the bridge was the work of Meade, Senior, yet she always +identified it with Meade, Junior. There was a feeling in her mind +that it was her bridge and that, through him, she commanded it. She +was a supremely assured and entirely confident young lady, yet as the +sheer and filmy mousseline-de-soie with its garniture of lace even +more delicate was driven by the wind against the rough nondescript +garment of the man by her side she experienced a passing sense of +uneasiness, such as one might conceive the butterfly would feel in +the presence of a steam hammer. Yet Helen Illingworth was not a +butterfly and no more was Bertram Meade a steam hammer, at least not +to her. + +They were just two young people desperately in love, neither quite +sure of the other, at least no assurance had been given or asked, and +although the man was thirty and the woman twenty-four they loved just +as if their passions had been born in the first unthinking hours of +youth and maidenhood. + +Experience and observation have established the fact that the whorls +on the thumbs of human hands differ in tracery as one star differeth +from another star in glory, and that so far as humanity can draw a +general inference without having observed all the instances, no thumb +is like any other thumb that has ever complemented fingers since Adam +first inspected his pickers and stealers. The Power that can stamp +this infinite variety in the human skin has seen to it that there are +no duplications in human temperaments. Infinite is the variety of +woman while women collectively are as various as that infinity raised +to the _n_th power. The love story of every man and woman differs in +some particular from that of every other man and woman. Again a +sweeping deduction from perhaps inadequate observation. Yet men who +have loved many have observed the variation in specific and +particular instances and such single-hearted experiences as have been +set down for the ruthless scrutiny of the ethic philosopher have +borne out this contention. + +But if it be true, as it is generally admitted, that love-making is +individual and different, in one particular various woman changeth +not. At sweet-and-forty given the conditions and the man she will +love just as she might have--or did--at sweet-and-twenty. It well +may be, God knows, that she will love the same way at +sweet-and-sixty. Which is to say that although both the young people +in this veracious romance had passed the period of--shall we say the +Sweet Evelina age?--they were both affected just exactly the way they +would have been affected if she had been eighteen and he twenty-one. + +They were as awkward and constrained when left to themselves as if +one had not been all over the world on man's jobs for a decade and +the other had not queened it among the nicest girls of the land for +half as many years. And with thoughts burning, passionate, and words +embarrassingly torrential at hand to give them utterance they only +spoke commonplaces! + +"How is the bridge getting along?" asked the girl, repeating her +father's words of a few minutes before, as these two fell behind the +others marching down the long platform, while the maid standing by +the private car with the porter looked curiously after the moving +group and wondered if that grey-green, long-legged, young man was the +reason for the New York gown! + +"It's doing splendidly," was the answer, and even with his heart full +of the girl by his side whom he longed to clasp in his arms but did +not even dare touch the hem of her garment, some little enthusiasm +came into his voice. "It is the greatest bridge that was ever +erected," he said. + +"How you love it," said the girl. + +Did Meade love the bridge? Ah, there could be no doubt as to that. + +He had studied its growth hour by hour. As the great steel web rose +grandly from the pier under the hands of the busy workmen and the +arms of the great traveler, his heart expanded with it. He took +pride in it that increased as panel succeeded panel. He had followed +it with even more heart-consuming interest and anxiety when they +began to push the suspended span across the river on the outer end of +the completed cantilever, toward its fellow rising on the other side. +Its obsession of his soul was so strong and so complete, that he +could scarcely tear himself away from it to do necessary work at his +desk. + +He lingered about it when the rest of the work-a-day world which was +concerned with it had withdrawn to rest. Frequently late in the +night he had arisen and had left the sheet-iron shack he occupied +near the work (for the topography of the land and the course of the +river had determined the location of the bridge far from any town), +and had stood staring, fascinated, by its dim mysterious outline, +high upraised against the stars, until its details were lost in the +blackness overhead. Or were it moonlight, he had gazed bewitched by +the great web of steel, all its mighty tracery delicately silvered, +faintly outlined, lace-like, lofty, lifted high into the heavens. + +He fell into a little reverie for a brief moment from which she +recalled him. + +"Well?" she asked. + +Was there a little wistful, jealous note in her voice? He looked at +her quickly as one essays a swift glance at the sun and then averted +his eyes, and from the same cause. She blinded him. He really felt +that he could not look at her continuously without declaring his +passion before the whole world. There was much of the feudal +champion in him. The civil engineer is the last survivor of the type +in this modern and prosaic work-a-day world anyway. Nothing would +have pleased him better than to have seized her before everybody, +then and there, crushing that filmy gown against his rougher +clothing, and to have borne her triumphantly away. Knight errant or +cave man? There are points of similarity between them of which the +world is perhaps not aware. He was ready to fill both roles, and +counted himself unlucky in that there were no dragons present, +although on occasion Colonel Illingworth might have essayed that part +with some success. + +"Yes, naturally," he found himself saying in a conventional tone of +voice, "it means a great deal to me. My father----" + +"Oh, your father," she began indifferently, although she knew and +liked the great engineer. + +"It is his crowning work and----" + +"Your beginning." + +"It is not in me, or in any engineer, to begin where my father left +off," he said, "but in some way it is a beginning for me. What +little I have done heretofore----" + +"Little?" + +"Yes. It isn't really very much. It seems more than it is. Anybody +could have done it." + +"Absurd." + +"It doesn't amount to very much to me at least," he went on, smiling +at her interruption, but pleased at it. "But this will count a great +deal, because through father's kindness I had some hand---- + +"I believe you did it all," interrupted the girl. + +He broke into sudden laughter and his merriment had that boyish ring +she liked. He seemed to think that was a sufficient answer to that +statement, for he went on quickly. + +"How long shall you stay?" + +And in spite of himself he could not keep his anxiety out of his +voice. + +"I think father's going on to the city some time tomorrow--probably +in the morning." + +Meade's face fell. + +"So soon as that?" + +"I will try to persuade him to stay longer. I've seen lots of +bridges built but never one like the International, and I should +enjoy standing by and watching you work." + +"I don't do the work. Abbott does that, and the men, of course." + +"Your work is the work that makes possible and profitable the labor +of the others," she persevered. "You plan, you lead, the rest only +follow. By the way, father told me to ask you and Mr. Abbott to dine +with us tonight in the car." + +Meade's mood changed into positive gloom. + +"I can't," he said dejectedly. + +"Have you some other engagement? Are you dining with some other +people more to your fancy?" + +"You know there is no one here but Abbott, the foremen, and the +workmen." + +"Why not, then?" + +"I haven't any clothes, neither has Abbott. We left our dress suits +behind us when we came into the wilderness to work." + +"Oh," she laughed. "What difference does that make? Come just as +you are. It will be a relief. I like you that way. I get so tired +of black and white," she went on quickly to prevent him from taking +advantage of her incautious admission. + +Happiness came back to his soul at that. He had a half-formed notion +of perpetually preserving these garments that she liked and hanging +them up in his ancestral hall, as men did suits of armor which they +had proved in strife, to which their descendants could point with +pride. Just an old suit of olive drab which she liked the love of +woman can dignify anything in the mind of the man she loves. + +The half-formed project died, however: for one thing he had no +ancestral halls. + +"Really," he found himself saying, "it's awfully good of you, but I +don't think I should with no garments suited to the occasion. I tell +you what I'll do. I'll motor over to the town"--it lay some +twenty-five or thirty miles away--"and get myself a proper outfit." + +"It will take so long and I shall be here only until tomorrow," she +said softly. + +"Hang the clothes," said the man, radiant once more in that +admission, "since you will allow it I will come with what I can rake +up. But you'll have to tell me which fork to use and give me expert +advice in those customs of polite society which I have almost +forgotten out here in the wilderness." + +"I'll do my best," returned the other. "And after dinner and you +have had your smoke with the men, we will go down and look at the +bridge by moonlight." + +"And what will you do meanwhile if I should smoke with the men?" + +"I will wait," said the woman with mock humility. "Women always wait +while men smoke unless they smoke themselves, don't they?" + +"And you have not learned that?" + +"Not yet. It makes me feel dreadfully old-fashioned sometimes, but I +have never even tried a cigarette. I don't wish to." + +"I love----" he began, and then stopped amazed at his own hardihood, +fearful of the possible consequences of his almost betrayal. + +"You what?" she asked daringly, with another swift glance as swiftly +withdrawn. + +"I--I like women who do not smoke," he answered lamely, which was not +at all what he intended to say, but which was nevertheless an +approval of her course. "But if you think that with the possibility +of but a few hours in your society I am going to sit around and smoke +with your father or Abbott or Severence or anybody on earth you are +sadly mistaken. I can smoke with men any time I wish, but I can only +talk to you once in a lifetime." + +"It isn't six months since you were at our house." + +"Six months! It's a thousand years," he went on, "and I'm going to +take you out on the bridge after dinner. It's great at any time. +It's the most magnificent sight on earth even now, but in the +moonlight--there it is now," he pointed as the little group walked +past the station which had hid the view and the great structure +suddenly was revealed to them. + +Unconsciously the engineer used the neuter pronoun for the great +structure which for all its sexlessness had still a being and a life. + +It is the habit of man to imbue with personality the thing inanimate +that he loves. Furthermore as love naturally is associated in the +masculine mind with the opposite sex, he generally describes that +genderless thing without life which is nearest his heart as "she." +Witness the sailor and the ship, the railroader and the train, the +chauffeur and the car. The bridge engineer is the exception to the +rule. The great structures which he flings from pier to pier, which +he stretches from bank to bank, which lift themselves above rivers +and mountain gorges and arms of the sea, are always neuter. "It" is +the proper pronoun. + +The four men ahead had stopped and stood silent. There was something +awe-inspiring and tremendous about the great, black, out-reaching, +far-extending arms of steel. The first sight of it always gave the +beholder a little shock. It was so huge, so massive, so grandly +majestic, and withal so airy seen against the impressive background +of deep gorge and palisaded wall and far-off mountains. So +ether-borne was it in its perfect proportion that even dull and +stupid people--and none of these were that--felt its overpowering +presence. Meade and the girl stopped, too. After one glance at the +bridge she looked at him. And that was typical. For the first time +he was not at the moment aware of, or immediately responsive to, her +glance. And that too was typical. She noted this with a pang of +jealousy. + +"You love the bridge," she said softly. + +He straightened up and threw his head back and looked at her. + +"I thought so," he said simply,--"until today, but now"--he stopped +again. + +"But now?" she asked. + +"I have just learned what love really is and the lesson has not been +taught me by the bridge," he answered directly. + + + + +II + +THE OTHER PASSIONS OF THE ENGINEER. + +Yet Bertram Meade, the younger, did truly love the bridge which he +had seen grow from the placing of the first shoe--the great steel +base on top of the pier which carries the whole structure--to the +completion of the soaring cantilever reaching out to meet its +companion on the other side. Meade, Junior, although he had turned +his thirtieth year, was indeed young for the position of Resident +Engineer, in the interests of his father the designer, of such a +bridge as the great International, which was to be the tie that +bound, with web of steel, two great countries which lay breast to +breast; already in touch save for the mighty river that flowed +between them. + +By no means would Meade, the younger, have been charged with the +great responsibilities of the Bridge had it not been for two things, +neither of which would have warranted his employment in that position +by the Martlet Bridge Company, but which taken together induced them +to give him a trial. The first was his exhaustive preparation and +wide experience. No one had ever started in a life profession with +better equipment than Bertram Meade. To a thorough technical +training at Harvard in the Lawrence Scientific School, had been added +a substantial record of achievement. A fine bridge which he had +erected in faraway Burma, triumphantly achieving the design despite +all sorts of difficulties, had attracted the attention of old Colonel +Illingworth, the President of the Martlet Bridge Company. + +He had kept the young man under his eye for a long time. When he +commissioned his father, Bertram Meade, Senior, to prepare the plans +for the great International, the most sought for and famous of +bridges, he had noted with satisfaction that the older man, who stood +first among the bridge engineers on the continent, had associated +with himself his son. Meade, Junior, had recently returned from +South America, where he had again shown his mettle. The two worked +together in the preparation of the designs for what was to be the +crown and triumph of the older man's life, the most stupendous of all +the cantilever bridges in the world. + +Indeed there was almost as much sentiment as science entering into +the designing in the great engineer's soul. After the completion of +the International he intended to retire from the active exercise of +his profession. If he could withdraw with the consciousness that he +had linked together two great peoples and that through the arteries +of trade which ran across his bridge their hearts would beat in +greater harmony, he would consider that the end had crowned all his +work. + +He had a high idea of his only son's ability. He was willing to +proclaim it, to maintain it, and defend it against all comers except +himself. When the two wills clashed he recognized but one way, his +own. The relations between the two were lovely but not ideal. There +was leadership not partnership, direction rather than co-operation. +The knowledge and experience of the boy--for so he loved to call +him--were of course nothing compared to those of his father. When, +in discussing moot points, the younger man had been unconvinced by +the calculations of the elder, he had been laughed to scorn in a +good-natured way. His carefully-set-forth objections, even in +serious matters, had been overborne generally, and by triumphant +calculations of his own the father had re-enforced himself in his +conclusions; and the more strongly because of the opposition. + +Young Meade's position was rather anomalous anyway. He had no direct +supervision of the construction. He was there as resident engineer +representing his father. He had welcomed the position because it +gave him an opportunity to see from the very beginning the erection +of what was to be the greatest cantilever bridge the feet of the +world had ever trod upon, the wheels of the world had ever rolled +across. + +He had followed with the utmost care, constantly reporting the +progress to his father, every step taken under the superintendence of +Abbott, a man of great practical ability as an erector, but of much +less capacity as a scientific designer or office engineer. Meade had +watched its daily growth with the closest attention. Like every +other man in similar case, the work had got into his blood. It had +become a part of his life. He watched it when he was in its +presence, he listened for it when in the office and out of sight. +The rat-tat-tat of the pneumatic riveters was music to him. Even the +greater harmonies of the wind which blew ceaselessly through the deep +gorge where the river ran two hundred feet below, diapasoned through +his very brain. + +In any mood or under any sky he liked it, even when the rains fell +upon it and the winds screamed about it standing indifferent to both +assaults. But perhaps it appealed to him most at twilight when the +hardness and harshness of all the rigid lines of metal, still to be +seen plainly in their completeness, were softened in the veiling +obscurity of the half light, glowing palely red on the western hills. +Then the bridge, poised upon its great pier with its gigantic arm +extended over the water dark from the withdrawn sun flowing swiftly +beneath, was most beautiful to him. + +Yes, Bertram Meade loved the bridge; yet more he loved Helen +Illingworth. Should the comparative be used? Right-minded men love +many things. Even though they love honor and fame and opportunity +and labor and persistence and achievement, they also love their kind; +the aged parent, the loyal friend, the happy child. And some love +sorrow and some love laughter, but all love woman. + +Sometimes there is strife between these various passions. Happy the +man who can enfold all the others within his heart without forfeiting +or lessening his love for woman. Bertram Meade was that sort of man. +He never troubled himself to decide among conflicting claims. They +did not conflict. He loved the bridge as he loved his father; and as +he loved Helen Illingworth primarily, there was no incompatibility of +appeals in this trio of affection. + +Sometimes, in fantastic moods, the younger Meade wondered if the +bridge in some strange way could feel what it was to him, if it could +know that it was more to him than to any man on earth. To Abbott it +was a big job, to his father it was the crowning achievement of a +lifetime of designing. To Meade, Junior, it was life itself. +Because he had somehow decided that as the completion of the +International meant much to his father, so also should it mean much +to him. For on the day on which it stood finished and triumphant he +would venture to ask Helen Illingworth that question which had +trembled on his lips a hundred times since he had known her. Until +that day he would keep silent. + +After the woman, the young man almost idolized his father. +Motherless from birth, the older man was all the family the younger +had. His father's greatness had impressed itself upon him even +before he was old enough to know what greatness was, or in what +particular his father could lay claim to it. Nor was the older man +so engrossed in his profession, as is often the case with greatness, +as to neglect the smaller things in life. The young wife of the +elder Meade, new-made a mother, died in childbirth and that made a +great difference to the boy. Remorseful and repentant Meade was +careful to make the boy his companion, by way of reparation at first +and later because it was joy and its own reward to him. The two were +thrown together the more by the untoward disappearance of the woman. + +The childish admiration of the lad developed into an adoration of his +father. When he grew up to be an engineer himself, on more than one +occasion he was brought in contact with his father's work and he was +able to appreciate its characteristic fineness, its superb solidity, +the scientific mastery of the technique of the profession which it +indicated. Perhaps his devotion to his father and to his profession, +in which his aim had been to be worthy of the older man's great +reputation, to live up to it, had so obsessed his mind that hitherto +the attraction of womankind had not been very great. + +Bertram Meade had enjoyed minor affairs of the heart, as have most +young men, but they were ephemeral and evanescent until he met Helen +Illingworth. He had taken her in to dinner in her father's house on +his first visit to Martlet as the emissary of his own father about +the plans of the bridge. It was summer and the Illingworths chose to +pass a portion of it in the great big house on the mountain, the top +of one of the peaks of the Allegheny range, where Colonel Illingworth +could get down to the bridge works in the valley without difficulty +if there was need. + +Young Meade's life had been a roving one. He had met women all over +the world, but he had never spent much of his time in social America +and this was the first splendid American girl, gloriously +representative of her class, with whom he had come into any intimate +contact. He fell in love with her out of hand and although he +scarcely dared to dream it--his experience had not made him very bold +where such women as she were concerned--he did not fall alone. + +There was back of Meade a solid record of substantial achievement in +far countries and among strange peoples, where he had been confronted +by unknown demands and beset by mysterious dangers. Straight and +bronzed and tall and confident enough, except when he looked at her, +with the assurance that comes from achievement, and with strength +mental as well as physical written all over him, Meade was the modern +representative of the ancient guild of soldiers of fortune. He +looked at life as the knight-errant of other days who faced the world +lordly a-horseback and laid it under tribute of his sword and spear, +and to whom the service of woman was the highest duty, the greatest +privilege, the supremest pleasure. + +Meade was the means of communication between his father and her +father. He was often at Martlet that summer. He met her in the city +in the winter. He followed her for a brief visit to the South. The +next summer found everything settled but a proposal on his part, and +an acceptance upon hers. Proposals bear the same relation to love +affairs that prefaces do to books. They seem to come first, but in +reality they are the last things said or written. And for the time +to speak or write he waited for the bridge, she for him. + +Indeed Helen Illingworth had been very much vexed at her somewhat +restrained lover. She resented it that a man who had been a +construction engineer at home and abroad, could possibly be timid +even before a woman. When he had not spoken the fateful words at +their last meeting she could scarcely veil her disappointment from +him. She made no effort to conceal it from herself. And when the +engineer came to think of what had happened he cursed himself for a +fool, because he had not put everything to the touch. Yet he felt +the proper hesitation in which a man should always approach a woman, +especially if he craves success. He was not sure of her. It might +be that she would say no. The fall of the bridge could hardly have +dismayed him more than that possibility. And it was after all better +to wait until he had done his work and could point to his not +inconsiderable share in it before he did speak. In his ignorance of +the feminine heart he half fancied such an achievement might plead +for him! He knew not that he needed it not. + +So with father, bridge, and woman in his heart--the last as usual +being first--Bertram Meade was very much a lover as he stood on the +temporary siding and watched the engine drawing the special train, to +the end of which was attached her father's private car, rolling down +the track toward the bridge for a summertime excursion under the +guise of an inspection tour. + +If anybody could have weighed in a balance his respective passions, +as he stood there by her side confronting the bridge, he would have +discovered that for once at least father and bridge together were +flying high into the air, uplifted by the power of a greater, a more +natural and a final passion. + +After all in the long run it is a woman, even though scarcely more +than a stranger, who will win over the greatest bridge or the finest +parent the world may know--especially in the case of a young man! + + + + +III + +THE WITNESS FOR THE DEFENSE + +One of the pleasantest evidences of the possession of riches is in +the luxury of a private car. Although Colonel Illingworth was +personally a man of simple tastes as became an old campaigner, there +was no appointment that wit could devise or that money could buy +which was lacking to make his private car either more comfortable or +more luxurious. Colonel Illingworth did not take large parties with +him on the "Martlet," for so he had named the car. Indeed the two +men and his daughter, with the cook or steward and the porter and the +lady's maid, about exhausted the capacities of the car, so that there +was an unusually large observation room at the end. + +Anything that partook of luxury and refinement would have been of +deep interest to Meade and Abbott, who had been removed from both for +a long time on the work. But in its napery, glass, china, and +silver, that dining table needed not to apologize to any other +anywhere. The Colonel was most punctilious in dressing his part and +although he willingly condoned the fact that neither Meade nor Abbott +had brought evening clothes to the camp, he and his guests were +arrayed to fit the table. + +As for his daughter, she had put on her very best. The rude hand of +mere man could not hold pencil sufficiently delicate to describe her +radiant apparel. Meade, who sat nearest her, could not do it, albeit +he never took his eyes off her if he could help it. Neither could +the other men who looked at her so admiringly, even though one of +these was her father and the other two were well and, considering the +years and sizes of their several consorts, fatly married! + +Again the French maid had lifted her brows surreptitiously when this +gown had been ordered extracted from its wrappings and protecting +tissues. She did not lift them quite so high however, because now +with the sharpness of her sex and trade, she knew why Mademoiselle's +best had been taken on the train and donned on this occasion. It was +for the engineer who sat by her side at the table in the observation +room. + +If anything had been needed to reduce this said engineer to a +condition of helpless impotency and despair it was this new gown. +Some women's clothes wear the women, and others women wear! This is +an orphic way of saying that some women clothes make, while others +make the clothes. Oh, not by hand, not by any deft stitchery, but by +personality. It was always difficult for mere man to describe one of +Helen Illingworth's gowns, only an observing, and unprejudiced, woman +could do that. + +Of course every wise man knows, in spite of vehement assertion to the +contrary, that as a rule women dress for other women, not for men. +That claim that they dress for men is usually urged to placate the +bill-payer and absolve the feminine conscience, but it is not true, +that is generally speaking. In this instance, it was. There was no +woman to be dazzled by Helen Illingworth's apparel in that car unless +it was Celeste, the maid. No man is a hero to his valet, eke no +woman a heroine to her maid. She did not usually care greatly about +any impressions she made on Celeste, although the vivacious, +enthusiastic expressions of approval she aroused in her factotum that +night were balm to her soul. She wanted somebody to tell her how +well she looked; not from vanity but as a forecast of the impression +she would probably make on her engineer. + +It had taken him little time to make his toilet. He rejoiced in a +business suit, new and from the best tailor. He was a fastidious man +in such matters, and it fitted him and became him amazingly. Abbott +was dressed likewise. They were both scrubbed to within an inch of +their lives, but climbing about the bridge their hands were +scratched, roughened, stained, and torn. Aside from that, Meade was +certainly most presentable, and old Abbott, in spite of his +indifference to such matters, looked the able and powerful man he was. + +The conversation at dinner was at first light and frivolous. + +"I'm lost," began Abbott, "overpowered with all this silver and glass +and china." + +"Yes," laughed Meade, "we should have brought along our granite ware +and tin cups, then we would be free from the dreadful fear that we +are going to drop something or break something." + +"You can break anything you like," said the Colonel with heavy +pleasantry. "Make hash out of the china and cut glass," he went on +with a delightful mixture of metaphors, "so long as the bridge +stands." + +"And that is going to be forever, isn't it, Mr. Meade?" asked the +girl quickly. + +"I don't think anything built by man will survive quite that long," +he answered as much to her father and the others as to her, "but this +gives every promise of lasting its time." + +"You know," observed Curtiss, "there was some question in my mind +about these big compression members. When I first studied your +father's drawings I wondered if he had made the lacing strong enough +to hold the webs." + +"That matter was very thoroughly gone into," said Meade quickly. "It +was the very point which I myself had questioned, but father is +absolutely confident that we provided latticing enough to take up all +the stresses. I looked into that matter myself," he went on with +much emphasis. + +"I guess it's all right," said Curtiss lightly. "I examined the webs +and lacings carefully this afternoon. They seem to be as right as +possible." + +"Those trusses," said Abbott emphatically, "will stand forever. You +need not worry about that." + +"Are you going to finish this job on time?" asked Severence, the +vice-president. "You know the financial end of it is mine, and much +depends upon the date of completion." + +"That depends upon you people at the shop, Doctor. If you get the +stuff here to me I'll get it in place in short order," answered +Abbott. + +"There's an immense amount of work still to be done on the bridge, +though," said Curtiss, "and you can't let up a minute if we are to +complete it within the limits assigned." + +"I don't expect to let up a minute. If necessary I'll get more men +and work them in two shifts, or even three. Don't worry about that, +gentlemen." + +"We aren't worrying about anything with you and Meade on the job, +Abbott," said the Colonel genially. + +"Yes, you are, father," said the girl, "begging your pardon, you live +bridge, and think bridge, and sleep bridge, and eat bridge, and drink +bridge." + +"Mercy," laughed the Colonel. "I must have a digestion that is a +cross between that of an elephant and an ostrich. I'm glad I don't +play it, too." + +"You know what I mean," said his daughter. "Ever since the +International has been started you have scarcely been able to give a +thought even to me. I'm tired of it. I hope the old thing will soon +be finished so that we can all go back to normal life again." + +"I hope so, too," assented the Colonel, "and I guess you are right. +The fact is the bridge is an obsession with us all. It is the +biggest job the Martlet has ever handled. Indeed it is the biggest +thing in the world. It's the longest cantilever, the greatest span, +the heaviest trusses, the----" + +"I've heard all about it," interrupted the girl, waving him into +silence, "ever since you began it. Sometimes I think it's beginning +to obsess me, too." + +"You don't look like it," whispered Meade, under cover of the general +laugh that greeted her remark. + +"What do I look like?" she whispered back quickly in return. + +But Meade had no opportunity to tell her save in so far as his eyes +spoke for him because as the laughter died away the Colonel took up +the conversation. That silent language which the young engineer +spoke with his eyes, however, must have been quite intelligible and +easy for her to understand. Her color was already high, but in the +excitement of his glance in an indefinable anticipation of something, +she could not exactly tell what, it deepened a little under that +direct almost fierce glance. + +"It is not exactly a subject for dinner conversation," said the +Colonel with sudden gravity, which proved how keenly his daughter had +realized his overpowering interest in the great undertaking, "but all +of us here, even you, my dear, must realize how much that bridge +means to us. I won't go so far as to say that its failure would ruin +us, but it would be a blow both to our finances and our fame that it +would be hard for us to survive." + +"Have you ever known anything that my father designed to fail?" asked +Meade somewhat hotly. + +"No, and that is why we took his plan in spite of----" + +"In spite of what, sir?" + +"In spite of Curtiss here and some others." + +"Mr. Curtiss," said Meade, turning to the chief engineer, "if it will +add anything to your peace of mind I will assume my full share of +responsibility for the matter. You know the books by +Schmidt-Chemnitz the great German bridge engineer?" + +Curtiss nodded. + +"At first, I, that is we, thought that there might possibly be +weakness in those compression members, but I checked them with the +methods he advocates and then submitted the figures to my father and +then he went through the whole calculation and applied coefficients +he felt to be safe." + +"I'm willing to take your father's judgment in the matter rather than +Schmidt-Chemnitz', or anybody's," said Curtiss, "so successful has +been his career." + +"Now that I have seen the members in place I have no doubt that they +will stand," said the Colonel. + +"Sure they will," added Abbott with supreme and contagious +confidence, an assurance which helped even Meade to believe. + +"Of course we all know," said Dr. Severence, who had been long enough +in touch with engineering to learn much about it, "that there is +always more or less of experimenting in the design of a new thing +like this." + +"Yes," said the Colonel, "but we don't want our experiments to fail +in this instance." + +"They won't," said the young man boldly. + +He had long since persuaded himself that he had been all wrong and +his father all right, so that he entered upon his defense and the +defense of the bridge with enthusiasm. He was ready to break a lance +with anybody on its behalf. + +"Well," began the Colonel, "we have every confidence in your father +and in you. I don't mind telling you, Meade, it need not go any +further, that when this bridge is completed we shall be prepared to +make you personally a very advantageous offer for future relations +with the Martlet Company if you care to accept it. On the strength +of your probable acceptance we are already planning to venture into +certain foreign fields which we have hitherto not felt it to our +interest to enter." + +"That is most kind of you, Colonel Illingworth," said the young man +gratefully, "and it appeals to me very strongly. I have been +associated with father latterly. He wants to retire with the +completion of this bridge and before I open any office of my own I +should like the advantage of further experience. Such a connection +as you propose seems to me to be ideal, from my point of view. No +man could have any better backing than the Martlet Bridge Company." + +"Well, we shall look to you to be worthy of it," said the Colonel +kindly. + +His glance vaguely comprehended his daughter as he spoke. Colonel +Illingworth was a very rich man. The Martlet Bridge Company was +nearest his heart, but he had many other interests. His only +daughter would eventually be the mistress of a great fortune. She +could have married anybody--anywhere. Indeed Europeans of high +station and ancient lineage had already indicated quite plainly their +willingness to ally themselves with beauty and--is it doing them an +injustice to say booty, as well? + +But Miss Illingworth would have none of them. She was an American to +the very core and so proud of it that no old-world title or position +could buy her. None of these distinguished gentlemen of foreign +birth who had come a-wooing had made any lasting impression upon her. +She was now convinced, and for all her life she was sure, that she +wanted more than anything else just one American man in the +engineering profession! She could have him for the taking, she knew. +And she wished he knew it, and would act upon the knowledge without +further delay. + +Meade was not poor. Of course, his means were limited compared to +Colonel Illingworth's great fortune, but what he had earned, saved, +and invested was sufficient--yes, even for two. And he would inherit +much more. Old Meade had not been the greatest engineer of his +generation for nothing. Independent and self-respecting, young Meade +could not be considered a fortune-hunter by anybody. He was the kind +of man to whom a decent father likes to intrust his daughter. Old +Colonel Illingworth found himself gazing wonderingly at the two in a +way that again deepened the flush of color in his daughter's cheek as +she caught his look. She was relieved that Meade had not happened to +observe it. + +Had he been blessed with a son by his long dead wife he would have +been proud if he had been the type of man that Meade was, thought the +Colonel, as he mused on all these possibilities. Perhaps Meade and +Helen might--who could tell? He sat silent, so far as he could as +host, during the latter part of the dinner, in his turn seeing +visions and dreaming dreams. There was a contagion of that sort of +thing around that bridge, it would seem. + +After dinner the men went out on the observation platform with their +cigars and coffee. For those that liked it there was something in +tall glasses in which ice tinkled when the glasses were agitated, but +Meade declined all three. + +"With your permission, sir," he said, "I am going to take Miss +Illingworth out on the bridge. The moon is rising and----" + +"I have heard so much about it," said the girl, standing by the door. +"I want to see it when the workmen are all off and it is all quiet, +in the moonlight." + +"Very well," said the Colonel. "You will be careful of her, Meade?" + +"I'll be more careful of her than we are of the bridge, sir," was the +prompt answer. + +"And you had better change your dress, Helen, before you go," said +the Colonel, turning to Abbott and engaging him in conversation on +technical matters. + +"I'll wait for you at the front door of the car," said the engineer, +his heart beating like a pneumatic riveter and sounding almost as +loud in his ears. + +As she turned to her stateroom he decided not to break the delicious +anticipation of the coming adventure by talking about it to anyone or +by seeing anyone but her. He just wanted to wait for her alone in +the dark until she came, so he followed her down the corridor to the +other end. + +"I won't be long," she whispered as she left him. + +He took that with a grain of salt. A second that she were away when +she might have been with him, would be a long time to him, he knew. + + + + +IV + +THE PORTAGE THROUGH THE DUST + +Now Helen Illingworth did not want to waste time any more than +Bertram Meade did. It was, of course, the height of foolishness for +her to explore a half-completed bridge, or an entirely finished one +for that matter, in an elaborate and expensive dinner gown. But +whatever her age or his they were at that period of life and love in +which, if ever, humanity had a clear title to be foolish--and there +you are! + +Economy had not necessarily been inculcated in this young woman's +mind and although she prized the dress it had served its purpose, +since the man so obviously highly approved of it and her. If she +spoiled it she spoiled it and that was all there was about it. She +dismissed that possibility promptly. There was nothing else she +could wear which was so exquisitely becoming, anyway, and especially +in the moonlight. So, instead of taking her father's advice all she +did was to cover her beautiful shoulders with a light wrap, gather +the train of her gown in her hand and hasten to the car door in the +shortest possible time. She did not even stop to change the light +slippers and filmy stockings she wore, satin and silk of the same +delicate tint and fabric to match her gown. It was a warm summer +night and she needed no covering except nature's golden crowning on +her head. + +Every moment they were apart, since the sum-total in which they could +be together was so small, was a moment lost. What were all the +dresses and slippers on earth to the pressure of his hand, a glance +from his eyes? She was very much in love with him and he with her +then, and thereafter. + +"Now," she said, coming out of the door of the car and descending the +steps toward him, eagerly expectant, "I want a prize for my +swiftness." + +"A prize!" returned the man, "why, you've been gone years and years +and years. You have had time to dress yourself a thousand times, and +you haven't even changed your gown. What have you been doing? How +have you idled away precious time you might have bestowed upon me?" +he concluded reprovingly in mock severity. + +"I think that it's less than sixty seconds since you said you would +wait for me here," she laughed in joyous satisfaction. + +"Of course, time seems shorter to you than it would to me," was his +cool reply. "It naturally would. You don't have to wait for any +man, things come always to you." + +"If you can refer to me as a thing, Mr. Meade," she replied, "in this +instance I have come to you." + +"I thank heaven you have done so, but unfortunately I shall have to +dismiss you." + +"Dismiss me, why?" + +"You can't go out on a bridge in that gown and those slippers, +tramping over dirty tracks, piles of steel, rough wooden planks, +paint and----" + +"Can't I?" she said, "you just see." + +"Really haven't you got anything for rough work that you could put +on?" + +"I have a walking suit." + +"That would do." + +"But it would take me half an hour to get out of this and into it +and----" + +"I hate to see you spoil your dress," he said uncertainly as she +stopped. + +Really what gown on earth was worth half an hour of her society? At +least that is the way he felt about it, and evidently she felt the +same way. + +"It is settled, then," she said, slipping her arm through his as they +walked down the long wooden platform near the siding. "You know," +she continued, feeling herself obliged to speak since he was so +portentously silent--ordinarily he was a fluent and ready man but +something had got hold of him now and he was as shy and speechless as +a boy--"You know," she went on, "I have heard so much about that +bridge and how wonderful it is by moonlight that I rather felt that I +ought to dress the part when I came to inspect it under such +auspices." + +"What about me?" he asked. + +"You are dressed in the part, too," she continued, "yours is the +strength and the power and masculinity of the bridge----" + +"While you are its grace and beauty," he concluded as she hesitated. + +"I didn't like to say it myself and I won't admit it is true, but----" + +"You don't have to admit it," he said quickly. "In this half light +you look as mystic and ethereal as----" + +"And how do I look in the whole light, pray?" + +"A trifle more substantial but not less beautiful and winning," was +the prompt answer. + +Really for a timid man, with women, he was doing very well he +thought, and so did she. + +"Do you prefer the ethereal woman, the dependent woman of the +mid-Victorian period to her self-sufficient descendant of the present +day?" + +"I like a woman to be all things not to all men, but to me, at +different times"--he ran the whole gamut of feminine possibilities in +his desires, it seemed!--"There are times when the clinging +mid-Victorian 'female' is the sweetest thing on earth to a man and +there are times when the woman who can march shoulder to shoulder +with you is the one woman you desire. Tears, laughter, submission, +mastery--a man wants a woman in all her possible moods," he concluded +oracularly. + +"You want a great many things, it seems to me," she retorted +mockingly. + +"Yes, but only one woman." + +"Well, you want her to be a great many things, then." + +"I just want her to be herself." + +Now Meade was perilously near that point when he would describe his +love if he ventured to discuss it further in the words trite but +true, "I love you because you're you!" That is what he meant anyway, +and incidentally although our sense of humor even in our tenderest +moments may spare us from the banality of the exact words, it is what +all think and most say in one way or another under such circumstances. + +"I hope some day you will meet this imaginary creature of infinite +variety," said the woman softly. + +"I hope so," was the somewhat surprising answer, at which she was not +a little chagrined. + +"You know you men have so many advantages over poor womankind, you +are free to go everywhere and pick and choose," she went on, +carefully concealing her discomfiture. + +"To tell the truth, I have met the woman," the man admitted. + +"Where, in Burma?" + +"In America." + +"America is a great country and there are a hundred million people in +it, possibly half of them my sex. + +"Your statistics are sadly in error." + +"They are the latest, I believe." + +"The latest in this instance are wrong. The population of America, +as I see it, is only one." + +This was direct and unequivocal. He was gaining courage, fast +mastering his timidity. She was by way of being swept off her feet, +so that woman-like she temporized. She changed the subject although +it was the subject nearest her heart and the one she most wished to +discuss; to wit, herself, in relation to him. + +They had now reached the end of the platform in their slow progress, +and as they turned about the temporary station and storehouse before +them rose the bridge. The moon larger and more magnificent than she +had ever been before to either of them--for when, since God set the +night lights in the firmament, had there ever been an evening like +that?--was rising over the high hills that sprang up from the steep +cliff-like bank of the other side of the vast river. They saw her +round red full face through an interlacing tracery of steel. The +lower part of the bridge was still in deep shadow. Indeed the moon +had just cleared the hills of the opposite bank of the great gorge +cut by the broad river flowing swiftly in its darkness far below. + +The base of the truss was yet almost invisible and the effect of the +peak of the pyramid of steel brilliantly gilded by the high light and +rising out of dark nothing was as wonderful as the picture of a +mountain top glowing in the setting sun while all the valley is sunk +in the ever deepening shadows. At the further end of the suspended +arm extending far over the water the top of the traveler glistened in +exactly the same way. The cantilever on the opposite shore, +incomplete and sunk under a high rise of land, was still in shadow +and not yet discernible. + +Instinctively the two people stopped and gazed out and up and across. +Unwittingly the woman drew a little near the man. He became more +conscious than before of the light touch of her hand upon his arm. +It was very still where they stood. The shacks of the workmen had +been erected below the bridge about a quarter of a mile to the right +along the banks of the little affluent of the main stream. They +could hear faint but indistinguishable noises that yet indicated +humanity coming from that direction. The fires in the machine house +and in the engines were banked. Lazy curls of smoke rose to be blown +away in the limitless areas of the upper air. In the darkness all +the unsightly evidences of construction work were hidden. + +"Oh," said the woman, drawing a long breath, "I don't wonder that you +love it. Isn't it beautiful, flung up in the air that way? One +would think it wasn't steel but silver and gold and----" + +"Time was," said the man, "when I loved a thing like that above +everything except my father, but now----" + +In spite of herself the woman looked at him. + +"But now?" she whispered as he hesitated, and then she turned her +head half fearful of his answer. + +"I am almost afraid to say it," he said, lowering his voice to match +her own. + +"A soldier of steel," she said, "and afraid!" + +"Well then, all that was the second now takes the third place." + +"And before your father comes?" + +But she did not give him time to answer. Atalanta cast the golden +apples before Hippomenes, but she delayed her pace while he picked +them up. This girl would and would not. She threw her golden +personality in his face, and when he reached for it she glided ahead +again. + +"Come," she said, "let us go out on the bridge." + +"It looks beautiful," said the man, "like most things in the +moonlight, but----" + +"Even women?" + +He nodded his head. + +"But appearances are deceptive," he went on. "It's a rough place for +you. Those little slippers you wear----" + +He looked down and as if in obedience to his glance she outthrust her +foot from her gown. It was not the smallest foot that ever upbore a +woman. Quite the contrary. Which is not saying it was too large, +not at all. It was just right for her height and figure, and its +shape and shoe left nothing to be desired. + +"Never mind the slippers," she said, "they are stronger than they +look. They'll serve." + +"But the distance between here and the bridge is inches deep in dust." + +"Dust!" she exclaimed in dismay. "I don't mind rough walking, but +dust---- + +"I never thought of that," admitted the man. "The fact is I have +thought of nothing but you since I saw you, but now we'll have to go +back or----" + +"I shall not go back," she answered firmly. + +"Well then, there is no help for it, pardon me." + +He stepped down off the platform and before she knew what he would be +at he lifted her straight up in his arms. He did not carry her like +a baby, he held her erect, crushed against his breast and before she +had time to utter a protest, or even to say a word, he started +through the dusty roadway toward the bridge-head. + +It was a strange position. There was nothing that she could do. He +clasped her with a grip of iron, too tightly for her comfort, indeed, +but the pressure he put upon her was due entirely to his own +nervousness. She could not kick. She could not even move. Really +she did not wish to. It was respectful enough even if a little +absurd. What he was doing was so obviously the proper thing to spare +her dainty slippers and silk stockings and other finery. And, if it +were not, she could not help liking it. She knew she ought to +protest, but the words did not come. While she was trying to think +them up they had crossed the little desert that intervened between +the portal of the bridge and the end of the platform. Then he set +her down gently. She felt her feet strike solid plank and she was +distinctly sorry that the journey was ended, the crossing had been +made. + +Another woman might have reproved him then, just as another woman +might have screamed or tried to kick or beaten him over the head _en +route_. Her arms had been free, but she had attempted none of these +things. Perhaps love, perhaps a sense of humor, or both had saved +her. He was glad to recognize the difference between her and the +ordinary member of the sex. It flattered his discrimination that she +had accepted so coolly and quietly, outwardly at least, his services +as a matter of course. + +"Thank you," she said simply, "that was very nice of you. You are +wonderfully strong." + +Now a man's bodily strength is something for which in a large measure +he has no responsibility, for which he can claim no merit, but there +is no subtler form of flattery that a woman may offer a man than to +praise him for physical prowess. He feels much more satisfaction in +being told that he has a strong arm than in having it pointed out +that he carries a great brain, and Meade was pleased beyond measure. + +"It's nothing," he said, which was scarcely true, because it was the +greatest thing that had ever happened to him so far. "Those shoes of +yours will be ruined on this planking, but at least there is little +dust. If my feet were not so enormous I----" + +Helen Illingworth laughed outright at the idea. + +"My own shoes will have to do me and if they are ruined I can get +another pair or a dozen." + +"Bad lookout for your husband, if he happens to be a poor man." + +"Oh, I wouldn't spend my husband's money as I do my father's," +laughed the young woman with that indifference to father's money +which is characteristic of the relationship, the age, and the sex. + +"Could you be happy with a man who couldn't give you dresses like +this and slippers and----" + +"If I loved him I could be happy with him in rags," was the reckless +answer. + +They were now walking down the track on the floor of the +approach-span of the bridge. There were two railroad tracks running +out across the bridge to the end over the river, and the space +between the rails was covered with rough planking. The man on guard +at the entrance recognized the engineer and, with a word of greeting, +the two adventurers passed him and marched down the track. They had +now reached the anchor arm of the cantilever proper. On either side +of them rose the ribs of the huge diamond-shaped truss, one point +resting on the vast shoe on the pier and the other point, both the +center and focus of the radiating arms of steel, far above their +heads. + +The moon, by this time, had passed the floor level and the cross +bracing cast a network of shadows over them, upon track and floor +beams and stringers. The silence of the half-light, the mystery of +it all oppressed them a little. It was with beating hearts that they +pressed on. + + + + +V + +FALL AND REVELATION + +"It's rather confused in here," said the man, "but we will soon get +out toward the end and then the view is magnificent. You can see up +and down the river for miles and the night boat will be along in a +few minutes." + +"Isn't that it?" asked the woman, pointing up the river to where a +cluster of lights rounded a huge bend not far away, and swung out in +midstream. + +"Yes," said the man, "if we listen I think we can hear her." + +They both stopped, and sure enough faintly across the water came the +noise of the clanking paddles of the big river steamer. With that +sound also mingled the song of the night wind, for a wonder +comparatively gentle, making strange, weird harmonies as it sifted +through the taut and rigid bars of steel. She listened enchanted +with the sound. + +The big floor beams extended from one side to the other of the +bridge, between the trusses at intervals of fifty feet. At right +angles to them and six feet apart the stringers ran lengthways +parallel to the trusses. Here and there pieces of timber false work +had been thrown across the stringers for the convenience of the +workmen, but as these two slowly moved toward mid-stream at last +these pieces became fewer and finally there was nothing to be seen +but the heavy floor beams and the lighter stringers. + +After they passed the top of the pier and got beyond the small space +of river bank on which the pier was set, there was nothing between +them and the water, now moonlit and quivering, except these cross +girders of steel on either hand beyond the planking in the tracks. + +"Have you a clear head?" asked the man. "I mean does it affect you +to be on high elevations? Do you get dizzy?" + +"I never have," was the answer, "but----" + +"I think I'll hold you," was the reply. + +He grasped her firmly by the arm. The loose wrap she was wearing +over her shoulders did not cover her arms and it was a bare arm that +he took in his hand. + +"I beg your pardon," he said quickly, "but----" + +"It doesn't matter. I understand. You would better hold me, I might +slip." + +She was in fact as clear-headed as any woman on earth. She had stood +alone and unsupported on the brink of precipices a thousand feet +high, yet her heart had not beaten then as it was beating now and she +had never felt the need of support before. There was something +electric and compelling in the pressure of his strong hand upon the +firm flesh of her round arm. She shrank closer to him, again +unthinkingly, by a natural impulse. + +The moon was now well clear of the brow of the highest hill. Its +yellow was turning to silver and in its cold and beautiful +illumination the whole river flowed bright beneath them. Every inch +of the bridge was now clearly revealed in the white passionless light. + +Their progress was now checked by a flat car, fortunately partially +unloaded, which had been left on the track before them when the men +knocked off work. They would complete its unloading in the morning. +If Meade had been alone he would have crossed on one of the floor +beams to the other track, but that was not to be thought of in the +case of Helen Illingworth. + +"Too bad," he said in deep disappointment, "I suppose we shall have +to go back. I'll rout out one of the engine-drivers and get him to +pull this car out of the way----" + +"Can't you climb that car?" + +"Certainly I can." + +"Well, so can I if you help me." + +"I'll help you this way," said Meade, having acquired a certain +facility from his previous performance, as he lifted her up to the +low platform of the truck, lower by the way than the level of an +ordinary railroad car. Placing his hand upon it he vaulted to her +side. They walked across it quickly, choosing the side that had been +unloaded of its burden of iron for their path. + +"Wait," said Meade as they reached its end. + +He sprang down to the track and as she leaned forward he lifted her +down also. Fifty feet away the bridge ended in the air. They were +now almost directly beneath the traveler near the end of the +suspended span. Its huge legs sprawled out like those of a gigantic +animal on the extreme edges of the bridge on either side above their +heads. The wooden platform on the track ran out half the distance to +the bridge end. Slowly the two walked along it until but a few feet +was left between them and the naked floor beams and the stringers +carrying the ties to which the rails were bolted and the planks laid. + +By the side of the track on the top of the stringers had been placed +a pile of material surmounted by a large flat plate of steel which +lay level upon it. It was triangular in shape, the blunt point +turned inward. The base which was about six feet wide paralleled the +course of the river. The plate on the top of the pile was raised +about three feet above the level of the track. They stopped abreast +of it. + +"Can't we go any further?" asked the girl in low tones, still close +to the young man, who still tightly clasped her arm. + +It was a night and time in which to speak softly. Yet a whisper +would not serve. Indeed there was always wind in the gorge and out +there on the end of the bridge. It might be never so still on the +shore but there was always a current of air where they were and it +seemed to be coming stronger. The sound of it overhead was louder, +and less pleasing. There was a threat in its notes as it swept +through the steel. Her dress was whipped about her by its force. +The drapery which she wore about her shoulders blew against him. She +drew it around her with her free hand and looked at him for her +answer. + +"I'm afraid it wouldn't be safe to go any further," he said. + +"But I must, I want to see the steamer." + +"It will pass directly under the bridge." + +"But this wooden platform will hide it, this and the pile of steel +here." + +"They have no business to pass under the bridge," said Meade. +"They've been warned hundreds of times and orders have been issued." + +"Why?" + +"There is always danger that something might fall." + +"At night with no one working?" + +"Yes, even at night. We are never quite sure that everything has +been made secure until we examine it. A bolt or a nut or a bar of +steel or a tool, to say nothing of a beam, falling from such a height +would kill anyone and the beam might sink the steamer, but they still +come as near as they like. The passengers seem to wish it and the +captains humor them. Besides the best water and the least current to +fight against seem to be just under the bridge end yonder." + +"Can't we go just a few steps nearer?" + +"I would not have anything happen to you for the bridge itself and +all the rest of the world." + +"You couldn't say more than that, could you?" + +"I could say much more than that if I----" + +But she interrupted him again. + +"Why can't I stand up there?" + +"On that gusset plate?" + +"Is that what you call it?" + +"Yes, it bears the same relation to structural steel that a gusset +does to a woman's dress. I don't suppose you know how to make a +dress?" + +"Do I not? You don't know that I have done some settlement work, do +you?" + +"No, but I am not surprised to find that you have done anything good +and useful and beautiful." + +"Well, it's hardly that last, but as it happens I could make a dress +if----" + +"If what?" + +"If I were a poor man's wife and had to." + +She laughed a little nervously. + +"A dress like the one you are wearing?" he asked. + +"Hardly that," she laughed again. "It took an artist to do that, and +I would not want one like it in that case. I am only at best a plain +sewer." + +"Plain!" persisted he fatuously. + +"Exactly. But can't I stand on that?" + +"Wait," he answered. + +He climbed to the center of it, lifted himself up and down on his +feet to test it and found it solid apparently. + +"I think so," he said at last, "but I shall have to put you up." + +"Am I never to be allowed to climb anything myself?" she asked as he +lifted her up and set her down on her feet in the middle of the plate +of steel as gently as before. + +"Not when I am by to help you," was his reply. + +"Perhaps you do not know that I am one of the few women who have done +some real mountain climbing?" + +"I don't know anything at all about you except that I----" + +"Oh, there comes the steamer," she cried. "I can see it beautifully +from here." + +"Be careful," was his answer, "you must not move. Stand perfectly +steady. I am not so sure of that plate. Indeed, if you will permit +me----" + +He reached over from where he stood on the track below her and by her +side and gathered the material of her dress into what could only be +described as a bunch, which he held in an iron grasp. + +"I do not think that is necessary," she said. "This plate seems as +solid as the rest of the bridge and--oh, there's the steamer! She's +right under us." + +The big river craft was filled with light and laughter. The wind +fortunately blew the smoke away from the bridge so that they had a +clear and perfect view of her. There was a band playing aboard her. +They heard the music above the beat of the whirling paddles, the song +of the rising wind. The passengers were congregated about the rails +on the upper decks staring upward. The bridge was as fascinating to +them as it was to the people ashore evidently. + +"How interesting," said the delighted girl. "Why don't you come up +here yourself, you can see so much better?" + +The man dropped her gown, lifted his right foot to the pile on the +stringers to follow her suggestion. Thoughtlessly she stepped toward +the outer end to give him room, quite forgetful of his caution. The +gusset plate was not so securely bedded on that uneven pile as either +of them had fancied. Before he could complete his step or warn her +of the danger, it now bent forward. It tilted distinctly. In spite +of herself, Helen Illingworth was carried still farther forward as in +her excitement she sought to regain her balance and that disturbed +the unstable equilibrium of the piece of steel still more. It began +to slip downward, grating on the pile of beams as it moved; another +second and it would be off and on its way irrevocably. + +Meade threw himself at the girl. He lunged out and caught her just +as she was slipping downward with the plate now almost perpendicular. +To catch her he had to step to the very edge of the planking beyond +which the rails ran naked on the ties. + +With a tremendous effort he caught her by the waist and swung her up +and in and backward. Fortunately the hypothenuse of the plate ran +away from the pier or it might have swept her down in spite of all he +could do. As it was he caught her furiously to his breast and stood +fast on the brink quivering, heaving himself desperately backward as +he sought to maintain his balance and take the backward step that +meant safety. + +Neither of them had said a word. A wild shout rose from the steamer +as the huge plate dropped, like the blade of a mighty guillotine, +straight down through the air. The floor plane of the bridge was two +hundred feet above the water. The heavy piece of steel, weighing +hundreds of pounds, was traveling with the velocity of a lightning +flash when it neared the water. If it had struck the boat it would +have cut it through like a knife. Fortunately it cleared the gangway +by inches. In a second or more it had disappeared. Screams, shouts, +arose from the boat which promptly sheered off into midstream. + +Helen Illingworth's back had been toward Meade as he seized her. She +had seen as he had everything that happened. Recovering himself at +last he stepped back slowly, almost dragging her, until they were a +safe distance from the edge. + +"My God," he said hoarsely. "What a narrow escape." + +"For the boat?" + +"What do I care for the boat?" + +"For me?" + +"I thought you were gone." + +"And so I should have been if you had not been there." + +"If you had gone down I should have followed you, I swear." + +His face was ghastly white in the moonlight. Sweat covered his +forehead. He was shaking like a wind-blown leaf both on account of +the strain of his sudden and terrific effort, and because of the +reaction from the horror that had overwhelmed him as he saw her +sliding. + +"The whole world went black when I saw you go," he said slowly. + +"Do you care that much?" asked the girl, trembling herself. + +There was no necessity for maidenly reticence now. + +"Care?" said the man, "care?" + +"I'm all right now." + +"You are more fortunate than I. I stood to lose you, you stood to +lose only life. Don't you see? Can't you understand? My God!" + +Suddenly he swept her to his breast as this time she faced him. She +was very near him and she did not make the slightest resistance. It +was the fourth time he had taken her in his arms that night, but this +time there was all the difference in the world. + +She had waited for this hour and she was glad. They had faced death +too nearly for any hesitation now. She knew from what he had said to +her that he loved her, and although he had not referred to it in any +way she also knew that he had so superbly and magnificently saved her +at the imminent risk of his own life. There had been swift yet +eternal moments when it seemed that both of them, trembling on the +brink, would follow the downward rush of the gusset plate. Now as he +strained her to him, she lifted her face to him, glad that she was +tall enough for him to kiss her with so slight a bend of the head. + +There, under the great trusses of steel, amid the huge, gaunt, +massive evidences of the power, of the might, of the mastery of man, +two hearts spoke to each other in the silence, and told the story +that was old before the first smelter had ever turned the first ore +into the first bit of iron, before Tubal Cain ever smote the anvil; +the story of love that began with creation, that will outlast all the +iron in all the hills of the earth--that is as eternal as it is +divine! + + + + +VI + +THEY CROSS THE BRIDGE TOGETHER + +Ordinarily Meade's head was as clear as the air of a mountain top, +his nerves as steady as the steel of the great bridge, but that night +after the shock he had sustained he was almost afraid to attempt to +return to the shore along the planks laid between the rails. No +experience that he had ever gone through had so completely unnerved +him. It was then the woman who played the man's part. As he said, +all she had faced was loss of life; that was a simple thing in his +mind compared to the loss of her; extravagant, foolish, if you will, +but true. + +He blamed himself, too, for having allowed her to climb up on that +gusset plate. To be sure he had tested it, but, as the event proved, +he had not tested it as thoroughly as he should. Indeed, the fact +that the most precious thing on earth to him, the being he loved +above all else together, had been nearly killed through his lack of +care, his failure absolutely to make sure, smote him terribly. He +strove, at first vainly, to control himself, but presently by the +exercise of as iron a constraint as was ever imposed on nerves by the +will of man, he succeeded in attaining some degree of composure. + +After that wild embrace, that first rapturous meeting of lips, he had +released her slightly, though he still held her closely and she had +been quite content to be so arm-encircled and await his further +pleasure. + +"I'm quite calm, now," he began, "that is, I have mastered that awful +horror and the nervous shock that came upon me when I saw you sliding +away, and I am as composed as any man could be who is holding you in +his arms." + +"It's all over now, there is nothing to reproach yourself with. I am +safe, thanks to you. I should not have ventured, anyway." + +"Yes, but if it had not been for me you would never have been in +danger. It was my fault. I should have made sure. I shall never +forgive myself." + +"But I forgive you gladly because I shall never forget that if I had +not been in danger I might not now be here in your arms." + +"Oh," exclaimed the man, "how sweetly you put it--nevertheless----" + +"And if I were not here," she went on swiftly, too happy in her love +to be mindful of anything else, "I certainly would not be +doing--this." + +And of her own motion she kissed him in the moonlight. + +"And if you were not doing this," said he, making the proper return, +"I might not have had the courage to tell you." + +"You haven't told me anything--in words," she answered, fain to hear +from his lips what she well knew from the beating of his heart. + +"It's not too late then to tell you that I love you, that I am yours. +To give myself to you seems to be the highest possibility in life, if +you will only take me." + +"And do you love me more than the bridge?" + +"More than all the bridges in the world, past, present and to come; +more than anything or anybody. I tell you I never knew what love was +or what life was until I saw you sliding to your death." + +Sometimes only death opens the eyes to the meaning of life. + +"I'm glad I fell just as far as I did." + +"One foot more and you would have been in the river." + +"As it was I stopped just at the level of your heart." + +"Yes, thank God." + +"And your own quickness and noble strength." + +"I thought I was too late when we trembled on yonder verge." + +"Do you know you actually hurt me when you swept me so roughly to +you, not but that there are some pains that surpass all joys." + +"There was no time for gentle measures." + +"I know, and I knew I was safe when you caught me. Somehow I +expected you would do it. I knew that you would not let me fall." + +"If I had not succeeded I should have followed you." + +"I felt that, too," she answered dreamily. + +"We must go back, dearest," he said at last, "I am so fearful for you +even now that I am almost unwilling to try it. Every time I glance +down through these interspaces between the stringers my blood runs +cold." + +"You supported me before; I will support you now," laughed the woman. + +"No," said the man, "we will go together." + +They turned toward the shore. He took her hand and slipped his other +arm about her just as simply and naturally as if they had been any +humble lover and his lass in the countryside. + +"No place on earth will ever be what this bridge is to me," said the +woman. "I knew you loved me, of course, at least I hoped so; at any +rate I knew that I loved you----" + +"I never dared dream that you could." + +"But here the words were first spoken, here you first took me to your +heart, here you kissed me first." She stopped and he with her, she +flung her free hand up in the air. The moonlight fell softly upon +her sweetly rounded arm. "Oh, beautiful bridge, oh, exquisite +creation of stone and steel, you have gives my lover to me. The wind +will never blow through you, the moon will never shine upon you +without recalling that," she cried rapturously. She waited a moment +while his heart whispered amen. "Let us go," she said reluctantly +enough, loath to leave the place where death had stretched out his +hand and love held him back. + +"One more kiss," he pleaded, "and then----" + +By and by they got to the end of the bridge. + +"I shall carry you across the dust once again," he said as they +passed out of sight of the watchman, who had seen the falling plate +and heard it splash into the river; but being a discreet man and +realizing that the engineer and the woman were safe he had made no +outcry. Meade thereafter properly rewarded him for his discretion. + +This time he held her differently. This time she slipped her arm +about his neck and laid her head upon his breast and he carried her +as he might have carried a child. When he set her down on the +station platform, now quite deserted, they both discovered first that +she had lost the light wrap that had shrouded her bare shoulders and +next that in the violence with which he had seized her as she fell, +the skirt of her dress, which had caught on a piece of steel, had +been rent and torn. It did not affect her appearance, in fact in +that moonlight, she looked positively heavenly to him at least. + +Far down the platform they could see the lights of the car. + +"Listen," she said as they walked slowly along. "You must not tell +father anything about this little accident." + +"I obey, but why not?" + +"It would only worry him, and it was my fault." + +"No, mine." + +"I will not hear you say it." + +"But I must speak to your father about----" + +"And the sooner the better; he is in good humor with you and the +bridge now. I have heard him speak well of you. He is intensely +American and he has never been anxious to have me marry any foreign +title, or even the fortune hunters of our own country who have wooed +me. I believe he will be glad to give me to you." + +"And if not?" + +"I should hate to grieve my father, but----" + +She turned and looked at him in the moonlight, her glorious golden +head, her neck, her shoulders, her arms bare and beautiful in the +celestial illumination which gave to the warm flesh a touch of +coldness, and mingled purity with the passion she inspired and +exhibited which made it almost holy in both their hearts. + +He seized her hand and lifted it to his lips as a devotee, and she +understood the reason for the little touch of old-world formality and +reserve, when nought but his will prevented him from taking her to +his heart and making her lips, her eyes, her face, his own. + +"Now may God deal with me as I deal with you," he said fervently, "if +I ever fail at least to try with all my heart and soul and strength +to measure up to your sweetness and light." + +"My prayer for myself, too," she whispered. "You need it not." + +"You must wait here," she said, deeply touched, as they had now +reached the steps of the car, "until I have changed my dress; father +would notice, anybody would, that tear. When I have finished I will +come back to you and then we will seek him and tell him." + +Accordingly Meade stood obediently waiting outside the car in the +shadow it cast. There was no one about. The servants had gone to +bed. The porter of the car was nodding in his quarters waiting for +the time to turn out the lights. The engineer had the long platform +all to himself. After a time he chose to walk quietly up and down, +thinking. The future looked very fair to him. To be sure he had +nearly lost the woman he loved in the river, and it had been his +fault. He overlooked the fact that she had disregarded his caution +and stepped forward. But after all she had not fallen. He had +caught her on the very brink. He could remember, he never would +forget, those seconds, like hours, when he stood trembling, even +swaying, upon the very edge of the bridge, with practically nothing +but his precarious foothold between the two of them and the awful +plunge into the river two hundred feet below. He could not think how +he managed to retain his balance and draw her back with him, away +from that perilous standing place; but he had done so and the result +had been the confession which he had dared to make and to which she +had vouchsafed that blessed return. + +If only her father could see in him any fitness to be trusted with so +priceless a treasure all would be well. Meade had never made a +failure in his life, except in small ways which had only been of +sufficient importance to teach him to cope with greater difficulties. +His career had been practically one unbroken success. He had +acquired a remarkably fine reputation for so young a man in his +profession and he had gained it, not only because of his father's +great eminence, but in spite of it; for the paternal renown had been +something of a handicap in that he had at least been compelled to +live up to it. + +There are few tasks so hard as living up to a reputation, unless it +is living one down. He was about to fall heir to such of his +father's business and prestige as the one could transfer and the +other take up. The great bridge was rising grandly and even he would +share in the fame that it would bring to its designer. His +forebodings had been unwarranted, his father's reasoning abundantly +justified. He was glad. The woman he loved returned his affection. +When she might have had anyone in the world she took--him! If only +her father---- + + + + +VII + +THE COLONEL MAKES CONDITIONS + +"Bert," a sweet voice came to him out of the darkness, and the first +familiar sound of his name from her lips confirmed all that had +passed which, as he had waited, he almost had felt he had dreamed. + +He turned to discover her standing in the door of the car dressed as +she should have been for such an excursion had she at first followed +her father's wise suggestion. His heart thrilled to the use of the +familiar name. With a sort of boyish shyness he made answer in kind. + +"Helen," he said, "shall I come up there?" + +"I'm coming down to you." + +Now whether she was afflicted with sudden weakness or he with sudden +fear, it was quite apparent, had anyone been by to see, that no +longer could she descend from car step to platform without much +careful assistance; also she had to pay toll before he let her pass. +There was no unwillingness in either case. Hand-in-hand they walked +to the rear of the car, where the observation platform was still +brightly lighted. + +Abbott had gone and the other three men were on their feet. They +were about to separate for the night, although it was still rather +early. + +"Father," said his daughter out of the darkness. + +"Oh, you're there," answered the Colonel. "I wondered when you were +coming back. I was just thinking of going to fetch you. Is Mr. +Meade----?" + +"I'm here, sir." + +"Good-night, gentlemen," said the Colonel as the others turned away, +leaving him alone on the platform. + +He came to the edge and leaned over the brass railing. + +"Are you two going to make a night of it?" he asked jocosely. + +"Colonel Illingworth," began Meade. + +"Father," said his daughter at the same time, "we have something to +say to you." + +"Umph," said the Colonel, staring down at them narrowly as they +stepped into the full light from the dome of the platform. +"Something to say to me, eh?" + +"Yes." + +The old man's face fell a little as every father's face falls when +his daughter and the man obviously in love with her make that +statement. + +"Well, say it and be done with it," he continued, clamping his teeth +on his cigar a trifle nervously. + +"We can't say it with you there and we here. Come down, and----" + +Colonel Illingworth opened the gate, lifted the platform, and +descended the steps. + +"Here I am," he said as he stopped by the two. + +His daughter took him by the arm and they walked down the platform so +as to be out of any possible hearing from the car. + +"Now," she said to Meade, who followed her. + +His heart was beating almost as rapidly as it had on the bridge and +for exactly the same reason--fear of losing her. He tried to speak. + +"Well, young man?" said Illingworth, flicking the ashes from his +cigar and wishing to get it over, "you said you had something to say +to me." + +"Yes, sir, I have." + +"Why don't you say it, then?" + +"It's a very hard thing to say, sir." He looked helplessly at the +girl, but she was speechless. It was his task. If she were not +worth asking for she was not worth having, she might have said. +"Well, sir," he began desperately, "I love your daughter, Helen. I +want to marry her." + +"Umph," said the Colonel again, "I supposed as much. How long have +you and Helen known each other?" + +"Over a year, sir, but I loved her from the very moment I saw her. I +did not dare hope, I didn't dream, I never imagined, and strange as +it may seem, sir, she--seems to love me." + +"Seems?" exclaimed the girl softly. + +"Wait, Helen," said her father, "this is a matter for me and Mr. +Meade." + +"And am I to have nothing to say?" + +"It strikes me that you have probably had your say already." + +"Yes, on the bridge," burst forth the engineer. + +"Ah, on the bridge! I see. Are you sure she loves you enough to be +your wife?" + +"I--you see--er--a----" + +"Of course I do," said Helen, realizing that it was now high time for +her to come to the rescue of her lover, "and so would any other +woman." + +"You know, of course, that while I am not rich, I am not poor and I +can support my wife in every comfort, sir," urged the man, greatly +relieved by the woman's prompt avowal. + +"She'll need a few luxuries besides, I'm thinking." + +"Yes, of course, sir, I'll see that she gets them. This bridge is +going to make us all famous and I shall have my father's influence +and----" + +"When the bridge is finished," said the Colonel decisively, "come to +me and you shall have my daughter." + +"Oh, father, the bridge won't be finished for----" began the girl. + +"I accept your terms gladly," said the man, realizing that in any +event they would have to wait for the bridge. "It's in the contract +that we are to deliver it complete before the first of November." + +"And that's not far off," Colonel Illingworth reminded his daughter. + +"If it is left to me, sir, and I can stir up Abbott, we will be ahead +of the contract date," said Meade. + +"You understand, of course, that there is to be no public +announcement of the engagement until the bridge is finished," the +older man said emphatically. + +"I understand, sir," answered the engineer, too happy at her father's +consent to make any difficulties over any reasonable conditions he +might impose. "Yes, Helen, it's all right, your father is right. +This job's got to be done before I----" + +"Don't say before you tackle another," protested the girl, half +disappointed, and yet seeing the reasonableness of both men, while +the Colonel laughed grimly. + +"That's about the size of it," said the old man, "no matter how you +put it. One thing at a time. Meade has this bridge on his soul, and +he ought to have it, and although he may have you on his heart he +must forget that until the bridge is completed and then--well, Meade, +you'll be coming into our employ and I don't know anybody on earth I +would rather have for my son-in-law than a clean, honest, able +American with a record like yours. A man who can look me in the eye +and grasp me by the hand, like this." + +He put out his hand as he spoke. Meade's own palm met it and the two +men shook hands unemotionally but firmly after the manner of the +self-restrained practical American, who is always fearful of a scene +and does not wear his heart upon his sleeve. The Colonel threw away +his cigar, slipped his arm around his daughter's waist, kissed her +softly on the forehead. + +"I hate to lose you, Helen. I hate to give you up to anyone. We +have been very happy together since your mother died, leaving you a +little girl to me; but it had to come, I suppose, and perhaps I shall +be glad in the end. Good-night, Meade. You will be coming in +presently, Helen?" + +He turned and walked away as they answered him. They watched him go +slowly with bended head. They watched him climb, rather heavily, up +the steps of the car--that he was an old man seemed rather suddenly +borne in upon them. He stood for a moment in the light smiling, +remembering, and then turned and marched within the car. He switched +the light out as he passed down the corridor. + +"Wasn't he splendid?" said Helen, when she had time to breathe and +freedom to speak. + +"One of the finest old men on earth," continued Meade. "He and +father would make a great team and----" + +"You and I another," she said quickly. + +"If I could only live up to you there wouldn't be a pair since Adam +and Eve like us." + +"But it's so long to wait for the bridge. I hate to have my fate +bound up in iron and steel." + +"It will be ages," said the man, "and yet your father is right. My +father and I have undertaken to put this bridge across and we have to +do it. Our honor is pledged. I'll think more of that bridge now +since its completion means you. And every blow of riveter or hammer, +every grinding of steel on steel, every creak of winches, will say to +me, '_Hurry up, old man, hurry up; your girl is waiting for you when +the great spans are completed and the river is crossed._' What an +inspiration that will be for me." + +"I was interested in the bridge, before," said the woman, "but think +how I shall watch it now. You must write me every day and tell me +every inch that you have gained." + +"Trust me, I'll measure it in millimeters." + +"And now, sweet love, good-night," she whispered. + +"I shall see you in the morning?" + +"If father attempts to run this train away without letting me see you +again he will have to leave me behind," she laughed as she looked +back at him through the door. + +Meade did not want to leave the car. He would fain stand on the +platform near it all night long. It was completely dark except for +her stateroom, where trickles of light came from around the +close-drawn curtains. He did wait until that room was dark also +before he went to his shack, which was built on the high land so that +it faced the bridge. He could see it from the window. He lay there +watching it, that bridge in which was bound up his love, his life, +his fortune. + + + + +VIII + +THE LOVERS MAKE PICTURES ON PAPER AND HEART + +The next morning bright and early--adjectives that refer not only to +the morning, but to the man and, as we shall see, to the woman--Meade +hurried down the platform he had traversed late and slowly because he +was leaving her the night before. The men were not yet called to +work, they had not had their breakfasts even. The sun had just +risen. He did not expect to see anyone at that hour at the private +car toward which he stepped softly, he just wanted to be there so he +could be near the woman whom, in spite of the fact that they were +separated by the steel and glass walls of the car, he still could +feel in his arms. + +We all know the proverb about the early bird and the worm. It seems +almost ungallant even to think it in this instance, but Bertram Meade +certainly caught Helen Illingworth because he was on hand at the +break of day. She too had been moved to early rising, for as he +stopped abreast of the car she came from the door and stood surprised +and, like Aurora, rosy with the dawn, especially in cheeks, if an +adjective so common as rosy may be applied to the flush of color that +flamed beneath her sensitive skin as she saw him and came down to him. + +He had not expected to see her and she had not expected to see him, +and it was necessary for both of them to make elaborate explanations +each to the other of this indubitable fact. Explanations are said to +be dangerous; not, however, is that true when they are sandwiched +between kisses. If you rise early enough, that is before anybody +else, you may kiss unobserved by the world; and if you do it softly, +even while you stand under the open window of a car behind the +curtain of which a father nods, you may do it with impunity. + +When a brief period of sanity ensued--"I came out to see the bridge," +said the girl. + +"I had a sweeter object in view than any structures of stone and +steel." + +"Knowing man as I do, I infer----" began the woman archly. + +"Your deductive powers, like yourself, are beyond praise," he +interrupted. + +"Some lady in the field?" she concluded. + +"In the car." + +"But you couldn't see me," she began, with dismay well assumed. + +"In my mind's eye I can see nothing else, not even the bridge. When +I look at that bridge the sound of your voice speaks to me in every +whisper of the wind through the steel. I can hear the swish of the +silk of your dress, the grind of the slipping gusset as I did last +night. I can recall the beating of your heart as I caught you and we +stood rocking on the very edge. It would not have been such a bad +death after all," he continued, "for we would have gone down together +and the last beat of each heart would have been against the last beat +of the other." + +The woman looked at him. The gay badinage with which they had begun +suddenly seemed inappropriate. + +"It's better to live together," she said softly, "even than to die +together." + +"Yes, of course. But I am not sure of----" + +"Me?" + +"Of myself. I don't see how such happiness can come to me. I've +done nothing to deserve it." + +"You're making the bridge." + +"A man might make a million bridges and not be worthy of one woman +like you." + +"I told you last night that to hear you say that, even though it is +not true and I know it isn't----" she went on, stopping his protest +with her hand lightly touching his lips. + +"I didn't make it half strong enough," he interposed, kissing her +fingers. + +"It was worth all the risk and I don't know why you have any fears. +I belong to you now. If it hadn't been for you I shouldn't have been +here at all. My life is yours by right of conquest." + +"Only for that?" cried the man. + +"And by my heart's gift as well," she added softly. + +"Oh," said Meade, "I can't understand it. It's beyond me." + +He looked at her, fresh, white, sweet, cool, lovely, and then at +himself, rough, rugged, stark, strong. Now Helen Illingworth was not +fragile or delicate, but one of the charms of woman is that if she +wills she can easily look that which she is not, on occasion. He +knew that she was a strong, vigorous young woman, yet it pleased him +to think of her then as a flower, spirituelle, daintily dependent. +She looked the part and she acted it too, because she divined his +wish. + +She laid her hand on his arm. The light pressure which thrilled him +telegraphed dependence, abandonment, trust, through the fibers of his +being to his very soul. He looked down at her hand. It was not the +smallest thing on earth. It was the firm hand of the splendid woman. +It fell upon his arm lightly, not with the delicate touch of the hand +of little use, but with a pressure of beautiful proportion and +womanly tenderness. + +Yet it seemed to him smaller than he imagined a woman's hand could be +and the hand with which he clasped hers appeared huge and rough +indeed. And it seemed so to her, too, his hand that is, yet the +qualities that he deprecated in his own hands were those that she +admired. She, too, was conscious of the difference between her +fleecy lightness and his severe strength. + +They walked up and down the platform between the bridge and the car, +her hand still on his arm. By no mental process whatsoever could one +conclude that she really needed support or that he actually gave it, +yet both agreed on those points. Love, like Gratiano, speaketh an +infinite deal of nothing, but unlike the Venetian the conversers +treasure the lightest word. They were both to live on the +remembrance of the glorious trivialities, from the world's point of +view, of last night and that morning. Yes, they were destined to +live on those, far, far longer than they dreamed. + +So pacing up and down they came at last to stop beside the car. +There were signs of life about it. They passed by it to the +observation platform. Meade climbed up, opened the gate, let down +the step, and helped his lady-love up. She invited him to breakfast, +preparations for which were already under way. He had not thought +about it and neither had she, although they were both possessed of +healthy appetites, but it was an excuse for a further exchange of the +limitless variety of trifles which make up the secret and beloved +part of our most cherished recollections. + +They sat together in the camp chairs talking and gazing their full. +No ideas were ever so wonderful to her as his; nor to him, as hers. +They had begun to plan their future on the completion of the bridge. +They would go abroad when they were married. He had been everywhere +and seen everything, and so had she, but now they would see them +together. It would be quite different. Life would begin with the +completion of the bridge. + +A pencil and a piece of paper lay on the little table which had been +left on the platform the night before. So still had been the summer +night that the paper had not been disturbed by breeze or human hand. +When Helen Illingworth rose to press the electric button to summon an +attendant Meade picked up the scrap and--by what chance who knew, +since he had not taken his eyes from her throughout the long morning, +not even when she told him to look at the bridge--he glanced down at +the paper. She turned to find him looking at it with wrinkled brow. + +"What is this?" he asked. + +"What is what?" she returned with a little jealousy, for it was the +first moment of attention he had given to anything but to her. + +He held it up to her. She saw a curious little sketch on the paper +made with some care so as to show four huge webs of steel connected +at the top and bottom by lacings of steel angles. + +"It looks like part of the bridge," she announced with a glance +downward. + +"It is a part of the bridge," he said promptly. "It is one of the +big compression members of the lower chord of the truss." + +There Was a little trouble in his face of which she was dimly +conscious, yet it was not sufficient to call for comment. + +"Mr. Abbott and Mr. Curtiss were talking about it yesterday evening. +Mr. Curtiss said something about its design that I happened to +overhear. One of them must have drawn it. Mr. Abbott probably. I +came out on the platform just before you came to dinner. Mr. Abbott +was telling Mr. Curtiss it was all right. He seemed to have some +doubt. It is all right, isn't it?" + +"Of course, of course," said Meade. "You know it's the member we +were discussing last night." + +He picked up the pencil, as is the habit of engineers, and began to +sketch just as Abbott had done the night before. As he talked she +bent over him. + +"Why," she said, "you're making a little picture of the bridge, +aren't you?" + +He dropped the pencil. + +"It's a habit we all have." + +She picked up the paper and looked at it carefully. + +"Finish it," she said, handing it back to him. + +"I'll make you a fine drawing of it when I have more time." + +"No, just that. It came by chance just as we came to know that we +loved each other." + +"Didn't you know it before?" he went on, taking the pencil and laying +the paper on the table while he worked rapidly. + +"I hoped. Didn't you?" + +"I never dreamed that such a thing could be possible." + +"And I had to fall off a bridge to make you speak, did I, incredibly +stupid man?" + +"You did, adorably wise woman," he laughed in glad affirmation. + +"It is finished," he said as he handed the rough sketch back to her. +She bent over him, looking at it carefully. With a few bold outlines +and expert strokes he had drawn a different sketch above the strut +Curtiss and Abbott had debated over, the outreaching cantilever with +the suspended span, traveler and everything just as it stood. +"There," he said, pointing with his pencil to the outer end of the +floor, "that is where it happened." + +She pressed it to her heart. + +"I don't have to do this, it is printed there without this, but I +will just keep the sketch to look at it and think of it when we are +parted." + +"Good-morning," said the Colonel, coming out of the door of the car. + + + + +II + +C-10-R + + +[Illustration: (sketch of part of a bridge truss)] + + + +IX + +THE DEFLECTION IN THE MEMBER + +Three days after the departure of the Illingworth party the young +engineer fell ill, very much to his disgust. His indisposition was +not serious, but it took the painful, unpleasant, and debilitating +form of follicular tonsilitis, which is about the meanest small thing +that can lay a strong man low. + +The bridge could undoubtedly get along without him, but nevertheless +he fretted over the enforced withdrawal from his constant supervision +of the work. Indeed in the end he had to pay for that very fretting, +for he got up too soon and went out too quickly, and was promptly +forced back to bed again as a consequence of his impatience. + +Now, after a week's confinement in his cabin, he felt strong enough +to venture out again and to attack his problems. They were personal +problems now, much more intimate than before, for he was building not +only the bridge but weaving in its web of steel his own future +happiness. + +Of course he had been able to get out on the rough porch of the +galvanized iron shack which was his own and which, as has been noted, +had been so placed that he had the bridge in full view and all the +operations on it, and the day before he had even walked unsteadily +down to the river bank, where he had been equally surprised and +delighted at the progress that had been made. Abbott was a driver +after his own heart. Really things seemed to have gone on just as +well without him as if he had been present and, as he phrased it, on +the job. He had not been lonely in his illness, for all of the chief +men connected with the construction had done their best to beguile +the tedium of his hours by visiting him whenever they could spare the +time. + +Abbott had been especially kind in his somewhat rough-and-ready way. +The big construction superintendent was fond of Meade, although he +held him in a little--contempt is a harsh word, disdain does not +exactly express it, perhaps to say that he undervalued him would be +best. Anyway, he regarded him more as a theoretical than a practical +man and the inevitable antagonism between the theorist and the +practical man, when they are not combined in one personality, was +latent in Abbott's heart. + +The building of a bridge in Burma was not the work of a practical man +according to Abbott's idea. That was almost as ideal and visionary +to the hard-headed veteran constructor as building one in the moon. +Yet Abbott had a sneaking respect for the younger man, and more than +a sneaking liking for him. Nightly, he brought to him details of the +progress of the work. That evening, just before leaving, he remarked +in the most casual manner in the world, as if it were a matter of +little or no importance, that C-10-R was a trifle out of line. + +Now C-10-R was the biggest member of the great right-hand truss on +the north side of the river. It consisted of four parallel composite +webs, each formed of several plates of steel riveted together. These +webs were connected across their upper and lower edges by diagonal +latticing made of steel angle bars. C-10-R and its parallel +companion member, C-10-L, in the left-hand truss, carried the entire +weight of the cantilever span to the shoe resting on the pier. These +members were sixty feet long and five feet wide. The webs were over +four feet deep and in size and responsibility the great struts were +the most important of the whole structure. + +To say that C-10-R was out of line meant that it had buckled, or +bent, or was springing, and had departed from that rigid +rectangularity and parallelism which was absolutely necessary to +maintain the stability and immobility of the truss and the strength +of the bridge. To the theorist nothing on earth could be more +terribly portentous than such a statement, if it were true. To the +practical man, who, to do him justice, had never dealt with such vast +structures--and he was not singular in that because the bridge was +unique on account of its size--the deflection noted meant little or +nothing. + +"Good God!" exclaimed Meade, aflame on the instant with anxious +apprehension. The night was warm and he was dressed in his pajamas +and had been lying on the bed. As if he had been shocked into action +he sat up, forgetful of his weakness. "Deflection!" he fairly +shouted at Abbott, who regarded him with half-amused astonishment, +"in the principal compression member, a camber in C-10-R?" he +continued, using an old technical term for such a deviation from the +straight. "Why didn't you tell me?" + +By this time Meade had got his feet into his slippers and was +standing erect. + +"It isn't enough to make any difference," answered Abbott quickly, +perhaps a little disdainfully. + +"It makes all the difference on earth," cried Meade. "It means the +ruin of the bridge." + +He reached for his jacket, hanging at the foot of the bed, and +dragged it on him. + +"Don't worry about it, youngster," said Abbott rather contemptuously, +although he meant to be soothing. "I'm going to jack it into line +and--here," he cried as Meade bolted out of the door, "you'd better +not excite yourself that way. Come back to bed, man, and----" + +But Meade was out of the house. It was summer and the sun had set, +but the long twilight of the high latitude still lingered. There +would be a moon in an hour or two, but none of its light would show +for a long time; meanwhile a few of the brighter stars had appeared +here and there in the graying light of the evening. Before him rose +the gigantic structure of the bridge. For all its airiness it looked +as substantial as the Rock of Gibraltar, and it looked even more +substantial if possible, as the man, seizing a lantern and forgetting +his weakness and everything, ran down beneath the overarching steel +to the pierhead, climbed up to the shoe, and crawled out on the lower +chord as rapidly as he could. + +The genius of the father had been inherited in full measure by the +son. Bertram Meade needed but one glance to see the deflection from +the right line in the important member. For all his years of +inexperience he was a better trained engineer than rough-and-ready +Abbott. What appeared to the latter as a slight deflection, Meade +saw in its true relation. There was a variation in the center of the +member of an inch and a half at least, although unnoticeable to an +untrained eye. It had all come in the last week. They had extended +the suspended span far out beyond the edge of the cantilever and, +with the heavy traveler at the end, the downward pressure on the +great lower chord members had greatly increased. + +It was a terribly heavy bridge at best. It had to be to sustain so +long a span, the longest in the world. And the load, continuous and +increasing, had brought about this, to the layman trifling, to the +engineer mighty, bend. If it bent that way under that much of a +load, what would it do when the whole great span was completed and it +had to carry its transitory loads of traffic beside? + +Not infrequently man is sensible of the weakness of a plan although +he cannot demonstrate it. _Per contra_ man rests confident in a +conclusion at which he has arrived, although he cannot set forth the +steps to justify it. When two such different views meet it is +natural that age, experience, reputation, and authority shall carry +the day. Although Bertram Meade, Junior, had never been persuaded in +all particulars of the soundness of his father's design, and could +not be persuaded, that vast experience, that great reputation, that +undoubted ability with its long record of brilliant achievement had +at last silenced him. He had accepted through loyalty that which he +could not accept in argument. Once accepted, he acted accordingly, +heartily seconding and carrying out the wishes of the older and, as +the world would say, the abler man. + +Now there is something empiric about every great engineering +enterprise, but more especially if it presents a new problem. If +there were not it would not be great. The work of the engineer in +that event would be purely mechanical and devoid of that imaginative +touch which always is a part of true greatness. Inevitably new +stresses are to be provided for and no man can tell, until by the +test of actual experience, whether or not he has absolutely succeeded +in taking up that stress. There is no absolute certitude in empiric +formulæ, because the whole range of conditions on which they are +based is not known or cannot be duplicated by him who applies them. + +Finally Meade concluded that, as usual, he had been wrong and the old +man right, and he was glad indeed to be able to come to that +decision. He was led the more easily and inevitably thereto because +of a certain quality that all engineers possess, a habit of mind in +which they all share. When the thing itself is before them +concretely, especially if it looks to be of sufficient bigness, the +invariable tendency of the engineer is to trust it despite previous +calculations. It is there, it stands, it is; though it moves not it +has a being; and the great monster strut, sixty feet long, seemed to +him big enough and rigid enough, if placed on the fulcrum of +Archimedes, to hold up and even to move the world. + +The thing that smote the engineer hardest, as Abbott spoke, was that +this weakness was exactly what he had foreseen and pointed out. It +was the possibility of the inability of this great member to carry +the stress that young Meade had deduced by using the formula of +Schmidt-Chemnitz. It was this point, and this point particularly, +that he had dwelt upon with his father and which they had argued to a +finish. So strongly had he been impressed with the possible +structural weakness of this member that he had put himself on record +in writing to his father. The letter he had written had been +destroyed, so he had been informed, but he remembered it perfectly. +The old man had overborne him and now the little curve, one and a +half to one and three-quarter inches in sixty feet, established the +accuracy of his unheeded contention. + +Although he could find no fault with his calculations he had decided +he must have failed in some way, since he could not convince his +father; and, in the face of the great experience and ability and the +serene confidence of the old engineer, he had finally yielded the +point. Had it been anyone else he would never have dropped it. He +would have fought it out to the very end. Vainly now he wished he +had not let the old habit of affection and the little touch of awe +with which he regarded his father persuade him against his reason. + +Affection and business never did mingle. Sentiment and science? +Yes, they have a relation, but not when it comes to engineering +calculations. Now just because he had given in to his father the old +man would be ruined. The younger Meade's experience was not great +enough to devise ways and means of strengthening the bridge entirely +satisfactorily if the deflection continued. Perhaps no one could do +that. A large part of it might even have to be taken down. The +question would have to be referred to his father at the earliest +possible moment, he reflected, as he noted the deflection. And he +felt a generous pang of sorrow at the humiliation the older man would +certainly feel when his error was proved to him. + +Meade realized in a flash that he had been living as it were in a +fool's paradise, lulled by his feeling that his father must be right. +Other things than professional honor and reputation and material +success were involved. When the bridge was completed he was to have +for his wife the woman he loved, so the old Colonel had said. When +the bridge was completed his father was to retire with this last work +as his crown. When the bridge was completed his own career was to +begin. Now! Good God! The pang that shot into his heart was almost +as great as that which touched him when Helen Illingworth fell with +the slipping gusset plate and he only caught her at the last moment. + +He stopped, feeling suddenly ill, as a very nervous, high-strung man +may feel under the sudden and unexpected physical demand of a great +shock. The reaction between mental and physical conditions was +immediate and overpowering. He was weak still from the tonsilitis. +He leaned against the diagonal at the end of C-10-R, clinging to it +tightly to keep from falling, and again that strange fit of trembling +he had suffered from on the bridge with Helen Illingworth, for which +he cursed himself as a coward, struck him. Abbott, who had followed +more slowly, stopped by him, somewhat surprised, somewhat amused, +more indignant than both. + +"Abbott," said Meade fiercely as the erecting engineer joined him on +the pierhead, "if you put another pound of load on that cantilever I +will not be answerable for the consequences." + +"What do you mean?" + +"That deflection is nearly two inches deep now and every ounce or +pound of added weight you put upon it will make it greater. Its +limit will be reached mighty soon. If it collapses--" he threw up +his hands--"the whole thing will go." + +"Yes, if it collapses, that's true," said Abbott, "but it won't." + +"You're mad," said Meade, taking unfortunately the wrong course with +the older man. + +"Why, boy," said Abbott, "that bridge will stand as long as creation. +Look at it. That buckle doesn't amount to anything. It is only in +one truss anyway. The corresponding member in the other truss is +perfectly straight." + +"Abbott, for God's sake, hear me," pleaded Meade in desperation. +"Draw back the traveler and put no more men on the bridge. Stop work +until we can get word to----" + +"If I thought there was the least danger," said the other man, "I +would do what you say, of course, but we are way behind now--weeks +behind in spite of my driving. They don't seem to be able to get the +stuff to me. There's a big penalty for non-completion of the +contract within the limits. I get wires every day urging me on." + +"I don't care what you get." + +"You heard what the Colonel said last week." + +"Yes, I heard, but it makes no difference, the work must stop." + +"It can't--and it shan't," cried the other with sudden fierceness. + +"Abbott!" + +"Don't talk to me, boy. Damn the camber! I know my business. This +isn't the first deflection I ever saw, is it?" + +"No, of course not." + +"Well, I tell you I can jack it back. That member's big enough and +strong enough to hold up the world." + +"What are you going to jack against?" Meade asked, and for the first +time a little of Abbott's contempt appeared in the younger man's +voice. + +Abbott reflected that there was nothing firm enough to serve as a +support for jacks and said rather grudgingly, for it seemed like a +concession to the younger and junior engineer: + +"Well, I can hook on to the opposite truss and pull it back with turn +buckles." + +"That will damage the other truss too much, Abbott," Meade retorted +promptly. "It isn't possible." + +"Then I'll think up some other scheme," returned Abbott +indifferently, as if humoring the other. "We can't wait, we've got +to hurry it along." + +The two men made no special attempt to conceal their feelings. +Abbott's indifference had been at first good-humored, but it was fast +taking on another character and Meade's insistence and his evident +bad opinion of the other man's obstinacy did not tend to make the +discussion more amicable, or to convince either that the other was +right or even that his opinions should be respected. + +"Abbott, I'm just as much interested in finishing the job in a hurry +as you are," explained Meade in a last effort to move him, and too +late appealing to him more gently. "I--you see--Miss Illingworth, +her father said----" + +"Oh, you get the girl when the bridge is up?" asked Abbott shrewdly. + +"Yes." + +"Well, rest easy, son, that will only make me work the harder. I +like you in spite of your fool ideas. I'm going to make a record for +myself on this bridge. It's the biggest thing in the world. There's +going to be no penalty against us on account of me. I won't stop +work a minute," he explained patronizingly. + +"There will be a bigger penalty if you don't do what I say, and paid +in another way, in blood. And it will be your fault." + +Now both men were angry and in their passion they confronted each +other more resolute and fierce than ever. + +"Look here," said Abbott, his fiery temper suddenly breaking from his +control, "who are you anyway? You're only a kid engineer. Your +father approved of the plan of this bridge. I guess we can afford to +bank on his reputation rather than yours." + +"Well, he doesn't know of this." + +"Nobody is on the bridge now, and nobody is going to be on there +until tomorrow morning. Wire him if you like. He'll wire +Illingworth down at Martlet and we'll get word what to do." + +"You won't put any men at work on the bridge until----" + +"Not until tomorrow morning," said Abbott decisively, "if I don't +hear from somebody at Martlet tomorrow morning the work goes on." + +"But if my father wires you----" + +"I take orders from the Martlet Company and no one else," was the +short answer with which Abbott turned away in finality, so that the +other realized the interview was over. + +Meade wasted no more pleas on Abbott. As ill luck would have it +something had happened to the telephone and telegraph wires between +the city and the camp. After vainly trying to get a connection when +he climbed back to the office Meade dressed himself, got a handcar, +and was hurried to the nearest town on the railroad's main line. +From there he sent a telegram and tried to get connection with New +York by telephone, but failed. Moved by a natural impulse, in +default of other means of communication, he jumped on the midnight +train for New York. He would go himself in person and attend to the +grave affair. Nothing whatever could be so important. + +There had been some friction between Abbott and Meade before on +occasions, not serious, but several times Meade had ventured to +suggest something which to Abbott seemed useless and unnecessary, and +the fact that subsequent events had more often than not proved +Meade's suggestions to be worth while, had not put Abbott in +altogether the best mood toward his young colleague. Abbott never +forgot that Meade had really no official connection with the building +of the bridge, and that he was only there as a special representative +of his father, and although he could not help liking the younger man, +Abbott would have been better pleased if he had been left alone. + +He was too honorable and too competent a man to diverge in any way +from the specifications and plans, but in all those matters which are +sometimes of great moment and which are of necessity left to the +discretion of the erector, he liked to be free to follow his own +devices. Consequently he was not predisposed to view any suggestions +from Meade with any great degree of cordiality, or to receive what +had amounted to a positive command with any especial warmth. As he +reflected on the heated debate in his room before he went to sleep he +almost blamed himself for what he considered a censurable weakness in +having suggested that Colonel Illingworth be bothered by wire with +such a trifling proposition. And so obsessed was he by his +conviction of the strength of the bridge and his ability to bring +back the wavering member to its proper relationship to the other +parts of the structure or, if he could not, of the comparative +unimportance of the deflection, that after Meade's departure he +almost found himself wishing that something would prevent +communication between New York and Martlet until he had had a chance +to show that he was right. + +Meade had not gone about it in the right way to move a man of +Abbott's temperament. He realized that as he lay awake on the +sleeper speeding to New York. Abbott was a man who could not be +driven. He was a tremendous driver himself and naturally he could +not take his own medicine. If Meade had received the announcement +more quietly and if he had by some subtle suggestion put the idea of +danger into Abbott's mind all would have been well, for when he was +not blinded by prejudice, or his authority or his ability questioned, +Abbott was a sensible man thoroughly to be depended upon. But the +news had come to Meade with such suddenness, Abbott had only casually +mentioned it at the close of a lengthy conversation regarding the +progress of the work as if it were a matter of no especial moment, +that the sudden shock had thrown Meade off his balance. + +Thereafter he could see nothing but danger and the necessity for +action. How he should handle his superior, or rather the bridge's +superior, was the last thing in his mind. Aside from his natural +pride in his father and in the bridge and his fear that lives would +be lost if it failed, unless he could get the men withdrawn, there +was the complication of his engagement to Helen Illingworth. + +Meade could not close his eyes, he could not sleep a moment on the +train. His mind was in a turmoil. Prayers that he would get to his +father and the bridge people in time to stop work and prevent loss of +life, schemes for taking up the deflection, strengthening the member, +and completing the bridge, and fears that he would lose the woman, +stayed with him through the night. + +He was too filled with anxiety and alarm to be anxious as to whether +he was having a relapse or not, but it was a white-faced, bloodshot +man in rough field garb--not intending or expecting to come to New +York, he had not taken time to dress properly, he had dragged on the +clothes at hand in his agitation--who half reeled through the gates +of the Grand Central Station that morning while curious people looked +at him with interest and amazement. + +To add to his misfortune the train had been delayed by a disastrous +freight wreck on the line, and was two hours late. Everything was +against him. Even the taxicab burst a tire and delayed him further +in his progress downtown. It was ten o'clock before he reached his +father's office in the Uplift Building, when he should have arrived +much earlier. It was with frantic haste that he ran to the elevator +and then to the office. + + + + +X + +THE SON OF HIS FATHER INDEED + +Meade, Senior, was an old man. Although unlike Moses his eye was dim +and his natural force abated, the evidences of power were still +apparent, especially to the observant. There rose the broad brow of +the thinker. His power of intense concentration was expressed +outwardly by a directness of gaze from the old eyes which, though +faded, could flash on occasion. Other facial characteristics of that +snow-crowned, leonine head, which bespoke that imaginative power +without which a great engineer could not be in spite of all his +scientific exactitudes, had not been cut out of his countenance by +the pruning knife of time. + +He was a great engineer and looked it, sitting alone in his office +with the telegram crushed in his trembling hand, despite the fact +that his gray face was the very picture of unwonted weakness, of +impotency, and abiding horror. The message had struck him a terrific +blow. He had reeled under it and had sunk down in the chair in a +state of nervous collapse. + +Time was when he would have rallied from the shock, when the stroke +of fortune would have found him ready to deal blow for blow. But he +was now too old for that. He saw himself for the little remainder of +his life bereft of all title and dignity, shamed, dishonored, with +the blood of men and the tears of women and little children upon him. + +The telegram fairly burned the clammy palm of his hand. He would +fain have dropped it yet he could not. Slowly he opened it once +more. Ordinarily, powerful glasses stimulated his vision. He needed +nothing to read it again. It is doubtful whether his eyes saw it or +not and there was not need, for the message was burned into his brain. + +To a layman the message was harmless enough, indeed, inexplicable, +but to the great engineer it spelled failure in the great project +with which he had fondly hoped to crown his long, distinguished, and +honorable career. It meant financial ruin to great men who had +trusted to his skill; death and destruction to smaller men who had +confided in his assurance; deprivation, sorrow, hardship, starvation, +to dependent women and children. + +He read again the mysterious words. + + +"_One and three-quarter inch camber in C_-10-_R_." + + +There could be no mistake. The name that was signed to it was the +name of his son, the young engineer, the child of his father's old +age, whom he himself had trained to follow in his footsteps, to don +the royal mantle of supremacy when he had laid it aside. Other +things connected themselves with the hideous fact conveyed by the +telegram. The boy, as the old man thought of him, had ventured to +dispute his father's figures, to question his father's design, but +the elder man had overborne him with his vast experience, his great +authority, his extensive learning, his high reputation. Age had +laughed youth to scorn. + +And now the boy was right. Strange to say some little thrill of +pride came to the old engineer at that moment. The boy in this was +greater than he. But it was lost in the imminence and magnitude of +the catastrophe. He tried to find out from the telegram when it had +been sent. That day was a holiday--the birthday of one of the +Worthies of the Republic--in some of the United States, New York and +Pennsylvania among them, and only by chance had he come down to the +office that morning. The wire was dated the night before. Perhaps +even--no, the morning papers would have said if the inevitable +accident had occurred. And he recalled that the state from which the +bridge ran did not observe that day as a holiday. They would be +working on the International as usual unless---- + +One and three-quarter inches of deflection! Good God! No bridge +that was ever made could stand with a bend like that in the principal +member of its compression chord, much less so vast a structure as +that which was to span the greatest of rivers and to bring nation +into touch with nation. He ought to do something, but what was there +to do? Presently, doubtless, his mind would clear. But on the +instant all he could think of was the impending ruin. + +The Uplift Building, in which he had his offices, was mainly deserted +on account of the holiday. The banks were closed and the offices and +most of the shops and stores. It was very still in the hall and, +therefore, he heard distinctly the door of the single elevator in +service open with an unusual crash, then the sound of rapid footsteps +along the corridor as of someone running. They stopped before the +outer door of the suite which bore his name. Instantly he suspected +a messenger of disaster. The door was opened, the office was +crossed, a hand was on the inner door. + +The old engineer strove vainly to rise to meet the bearer of evil +tidings, but failed. His trembling limbs would not support him. He +sank back almost as one dead waiting the shock, the blow. It was not +so much of himself as of the consequences to others he thought, +although the one failure would dissolve the fame he had gained by all +the successes of the past. + +When the door was opened, instinctively he put his arm across his +eyes as if to shield himself from the attack. + +"Father," exclaimed the newcomer. + +"Thank God," said the old man, dropping his arm, "you are here." + +"You got my telegram?" + +The other silently exhibited the crumpled paper in his hand. + +"What have you done?" + +"Why, I--nothing." + +"Good God! Nothing! Why, you must have received it early this +morning. I-- + +"It's a holiday, don't you know? I only got it a few moments ago. +The bridge?" + +"Still stands." + +"But for how long?" + +"I can't say. The Martlet's resident engineer is mad. I begged, +threatened, implored. I tried to get him to stop work, to take the +men off the bridge, to withdraw the traveler, but he won't do it. +Said you designed it, you knew. I was only a cub." + +"But the camber?" + +"He said, 'Damn the camber, I'll jack it into line again.' Like +every other engineer who sees a big thing before him it looks to him +as if it would last forever. I tried to get you on the telephone +here and at the house last night and failed. I wired you. Then I +jumped on the midnight express and----" + +"What is to be done?" asked the old man. + +Meade, Senior, was thankful that the younger man had not said, "I +told you so," as well he might. But really his father's condition +was so pitiful that the son had not the heart. + +"Telegraph the Martlet Bridge Company at once," he answered. + +"What shall we say?" asked the old man, uncertainly. + +The young man shot a quick look at him, that question evidenced the +violence of the shock. His father was old, broken, helpless, +dependent, at last.... + +"Give me the blank," he answered, "I'll wire in your name." + +He repeated the telegram that he had sent to his father and added +these words as he signed the old man's name to it: + + +"_Put no more load on the bridge. Withdraw men and traveler._" + + +He read the message to his father. The old man nodded helplessly. +The young man seized the telephone, called up the Western Union and +soon the message was on the wire to the great bridge works in the +Pennsylvania hills. + +"Now, father," said the young man encouragingly, "don't give up. The +Martlet people will pay attention to that message. Even if the +bridge goes down, there will be no lives lost." + +"How many men are working on it?" + +"About two hundred. Abbott told me he wouldn't take a single man +off. I wanted to tell them myself, but I couldn't do that. He is in +charge. I am only representing you. He would not even agree to take +direction from you." + +"Of course not." + +"We will get hold of the bridge people. Colonel Illingworth will +telegraph Abbott to back up the traveler, withdraw the men, and get +all possible load off the member. Pull yourself together. Let's +figure out some way to strengthen it until we can replace it, or +devise----" + +"You are right, boy, you are right," said the old man, rising in his +chair and turning toward his desk. "Let us get to work." + +"Good," said the young man. "We ought to hear from Colonel +Illingworth in half an hour and we'll pull the thing through yet." + + + + +XI + +THE DEATH MESSAGE ON THE WIRE + +"I can't understand why we don't hear," said the young engineer, +walking up and down the room in his agitation. "Two telegrams and +now we can't get a telephone connection, or at least any answer after +our repeated calls." + +"It's a holiday there as well as here," said the older man. "There +is no one in the office at Martlet." + +"I'll try the telephone again. Someone may come in at any time." + +He sat down at the desk, and after five minutes of feverish and +excited waiting he finally did get the office of the Martlet Bridge +Company. By a happy fortune it appeared that someone happened to +come into the office just at that moment. + +"This is Meade," began the young man, "the consulting engineer of the +International Bridge. Understand? Yes. Well, at ten-thirty this +morning I sent a telegram to Colonel Illingworth and an hour later I +sent another. I've had no reply. I've been trying hard to get the +office on the telephone ever since. What's that?" Young Meade +turned to his father. "He says there's been no one in the office on +account of the holiday. Both telegrams are on the desk. He just +chanced to come in or I couldn't have got the message through." + +"It's too late, too late," said the father, wringing his hands. + +"Wait," said the son. He turned to the telephone again. "Give me +your name--Johnson--you're one of the clerks there? Well, telephone +Colonel Illingworth at his home and tell him to call me at this +office at once. I'll hold this connection with you until I hear +you've got him. It's most important. We're on the right track now, +father," continued the young man reassuringly. "The bridge must be +all right yet. We would have heard at once if it weren't. Keep up +your courage. We're going to pull through, somehow." + +In such talk a few anxious minutes passed. + +"Yes," suddenly broke out the younger Meade, who had kept the +receiver to his ear. "What! You can't find him? He isn't at home? +He has gone away? Is the vice-president there--the +superintendent--anybody? The men are having a jollification in the +mountains, you say, and everybody has gone? How far away are they? +Twenty miles! On the railroad? They went in wagons? There's no +telephone? Now, listen, Johnson, this is what you must do. Get a +car, the strongest and fastest you can rent and the boldest +chauffeur, and a couple of men on horses too, and send up to that +place wherever they are, and tell Colonel Illingworth that he must +telephone me and come to his office at once. There are telegrams +there that mean life and death and the safety of the bridge. You +understand? Good. He says he'll do it, father. We've done all we +can," he added. He hung up the receiver, sprang to his feet, looked +at his watch. "It's so important that I'll go down there myself. I +can catch the two-o'clock train, and that will get me there in two +hours. You stay quietly here in the office and wait until I get in +touch with those people. I mean, I want to know where I can reach +you instantly." + +"I'll stay right here, my boy. Go, and God bless you." + +As usual when in a great hurry there were unexpected delays and the +clock on the tower above the big structural shop was striking five +when a rickety station wagon, drawn by an exhausted horse, which had +been driven unsparingly, drew up before the office door. Flinging +the money at the driver, Meade sprang down from his seat and dashed +up the steps. He threw open the door and confronted Johnson. + +"Did you get him?" he cried. + +"He isn't here yet. I sent an automobile and two men on horseback +and----" + +The next minute the faint note of an automobile horn sounded far down +the valley. + +"I hope to God that is he," cried the young engineer, running to the +window. + +"That's the car I sent," said Johnson, peering over his shoulder. +"And there are people in it. It's coming this way." + +"Johnson," said Meade, "you have acted well in this crisis and I will +see that the Bridge Company remembers it." + +"Would you mind telling me what the matter is, Mr. Meade?" + +"Matter! The International----" + +"Bert," exclaimed a joyous voice, as Helen Illingworth, smiling in +delighted surprise, stepped through the open door and stood expectant +with outstretched hands. + +Young Johnson was as discreet as he was prompt and ready. He walked +to the window out of which he stared, with his back ostentatiously +turned toward them. Most considerately he even whistled a little +tune and drummed noisily upon the panes. After a quick glance at the +other man, Meade swept the girl to his heart and held her there a +moment. He did not kiss her before he released her. The woman's +passionate look at him was caress enough and his own adoring glance +fairly enveloped her with emotion. She looked at Johnson and her +brow wrinkled in slight annoyance, but, though he felt unwelcome, +that young man could not go and he had sense enough to know that he +would be needed and that no more time could be wasted by the lovers. +He coughed and turned as the two separated. It was the woman who +recovered her poise quicker. To be sure she did not have the burden +upon her shoulders that Meade had to support. + +"What were you saying about our bridge when I came into the room?" +she began, and Meade fully understood the slight but unmistakable +emphasis in the pronoun--our bridge, indeed--"I was lying down this +afternoon, but when I awakened my maid told me about your urgent +calls for father," she ran on, realizing that some trouble portended +and seeking to help her lover by giving him time. "I knew something +must be wrong, so I came here. I didn't expect to see you. Oh, what +is it?" she broke off, suddenly realizing from the mental strain in +her lover's face, which the sudden sight of her had caused him to +conceal for a moment, that something terribly serious had happened, +and she turned a little pale herself as she asked the question, not +dreaming what the answer would be. + +"Helen," said the young man, stepping toward her and taking her hands +again, "we're in awful trouble." + +"If it is any trouble I can share, Bert," said the girl, flashing at +him a look which set his pulses bounding--at least she was to be +depended on--"you know you can count on me." + +"I know I can," he exclaimed gratefully. + +"Now tell me." + +"The International Bridge is about to fail." + +The color came to her face again. Was that all? came into her mind. +That was serious enough, of course, but it would not matter in the +long run. Through its structural weakness the bridge might fail; +through Abbott's obstinacy and pig-headedness those men might die on +it, his father's reputation might go and his own, but as he looked +into the eyes of the woman he knew that all these things would make +no difference to her. Heart once given, love once proffered, they +were his to the end. Her father! Well, Colonel Illingworth was not +the deciding voice, so she had said before. That thought flashed +into Meade's mind. Yet the glad consciousness was accompanied by a +firm resolution to abide by the conditions as set forth by Colonel +Illingworth. Bridge and woman, they went together for him. Indeed +he intended to save his father, even if his own life and happiness, +interwoven with the bridge, were the price of his endeavor. No one +should ever know. It would be his fault. It was. He should have +insisted on his contentions. + +He would never involve in his own ruin this glorious woman, whatever +her trust, her affection, her willingness. That bright youthful life +at least should not go down with the bridge. The awful Web of Steel +should not catch her in its meshes. He would tear the rigid bars +apart with his own bleeding hands before that should happen. + +Yet he would not have been the man she loved, the man who loved her, +if he had not thrilled to her splendid ardent devotion, her +whole-hearted trust in him. He did not quite realize that, as it +takes two to make a quarrel, no man, however determined upon a +course, can absolutely settle a woman's relationship to him without +her consent, especially when he loves her and has told her so and +received her love in return. + +How much of all this Helen Illingworth realized, what her thoughts +were, what resolutions she came to, what determinations were her own, +her lover could not tell. She recognized the awful gravity, the +terrible seriousness, of the situation of course. The bridge meant +much to her even if in quite a different way. It was there he had +saved her from the awful fall. It was there that he had told her +that he loved her. If she had been given the choice she would have +embraced the risk for the avowal if it could not have been brought +about otherwise. The bridge might fall, but it was as eternal as her +affection in her memory. Their engagement, or their marriage, had +been made dependent upon the successful completion of the bridge. +What of that? The proviso meant nothing to her when she looked at +the white-faced agonized man to whom she had given herself. + +Who dared condition love? What parental injunction could bind the +free movement of human hearts? Age? What did age know about it? +Here were youth, sorrow, love, life. While they had being they +belonged to each other. Not the trusses and stringers of the great +bridge were stronger than the intangible ties that bound heart to +heart, and the steel was not half so real. Bridges might come and +bridges might go, reputations fail and disappear, property be lost in +ruin and disaster--it would make no difference. She was his and he +was hers. The senses of possession and possessed alike would and +should have the mastery. + +"It is terrible, of course," she said quietly. + +"Appalling." + +"But you can do nothing?" + +"If I could do you think I'd let the bridge, and you, go without----" + +"I'm not going with the bridge," was her quick and decisive +interruption. + +They had both forgotten the presence of young Johnson, who was not +only decidedly uncomfortable, but desperately anxious. He was about +to speak when, into this already broken scene, came another +interruption. + +There was a rush of wheels on the driveway outside, the roar of a +motor. Before Meade could answer the statement, into the room burst +Colonel Illingworth. He was covered with dust, his face was white, +his eyes filled with anxiety. The character of the summons had +disquieted him beyond measure. Back of him came Severence, the +vice-president, and Curtiss, the chief engineer. + +"Meade, what of the bridge?" he burst out, with a quick nod to his +daughter, knowing that nothing else could have brought the engineer +there, especially in the light of the messages received. + +Colonel Illingworth had not stopped to hunt for a wayside telephone. +The automobile driven madly, recklessly through the hills and over +the rough roads, had brought him directly to the office in the +shortest possible time. + +"There is a deflection one inch and three-quarters deep in one of the +compression members, C-10-R," was the prompt and terrible answer. + +Colonel Illingworth had not been president of the Martlet Bridge +Company for so long without learning something of practical +construction. He was easily enough of an engineer to realize +instantly what that statement meant. + +"When did you discover it?" he snapped out. + +"Last night." + +"Is the bridge gone?" + +"Not yet." + +"Why didn't you let us know?" + +"I telegraphed father and, not hearing from him, I came down on the +midnight train. It is a holiday in New York as well as here. I just +happened to meet father in the office. He sent a telegram to you and +not hearing from you, duplicated it an hour later. I tried half a +dozen times to get you on the telephone and finally, by a happy +chance, got hold of young Johnson." + +"Where are your father's telegrams?" + +"Here." + +Colonel Illingworth tore the first open with trembling fingers? + +"Why didn't you tell Abbott?" asked the chief engineer. + +"You know Abbott. He said the bridge would stand until the world +caved in. Said he could jack the member into line. He wouldn't do a +thing except on direct orders from here." + +"Your father wires, 'put no more weight on the bridge.' What shall +we do?" interposed Colonel Illingworth. + +"Telegraph Abbott at once." + +"If the bridge goes it means ruin to the company," said the agitated +vice-president, who was the financial member of the firm and who +could easily be pardoned for a natural exaggeration under the +terrible circumstances. + +"Yes, but if it goes with the men on, it means--Johnson, are you a +telegraph operator?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Take the key," said the Colonel, who, having been a soldier, thought +first of the men. + +Johnson sat down at the table where the direct wire ran from the +Bridge Company to the Western Union office. He reached his hand out +and laid his fingers on the key. Before he could give the faintest +pressure to the instrument, it suddenly clicked of its own motion. +Everybody in the room stood silent. + +"They are calling us, sir," said Johnson. + +Colonel Illingworth nodded. + +"It is a message from Wilchings, the chief of construction foremen +of," Johnson paused a moment, listening to the rapid click--"The +International----" he said in an awestruck whisper. + +It had come! + +"Read it, man! Read it, for God's sake!" cried the chief engineer. + +"_The bridge is in the river,_" faltered Johnson slowly, word by +word, translating the fearful message on the wire. "_Abbott and one +hundred and fifty men with it._" + + + + +XII + +THE FAILURE + +In spite of himself and his confidence in the bridge, and every look +at the huge trusses rising from the massive piers and extending their +long arms out to meet their sister trusses beginning to rise on the +other side, re-enforced that confidence, Abbott felt a little uneasy +the next morning. At bottom he had more respect for Meade's +technical knowledge than he had displayed or even admitted to +himself. The younger engineer's terrified alarm, his urgent +pleading, his utter forgetfulness of the amenities that usually +prevailed between them, his frantic but futile efforts to telephone, +of which the operator told Abbott in the morning, his hurried +departure to New York, were, to say the least, somewhat disquieting, +much more so than he was fain to admit to himself. + +Although it involved a hard and somewhat dangerous climb downward and +took upwards of a half-hour of his valuable time, the first thing the +erecting engineer did in the morning was to go down to the pier head +and make a thorough and careful examination of the buckled member. +C-10-R was the first great member of the right-hand truss, as you +crossed the bridge, that sprang from the steel shoe and reached out +over the water. It was, of course, a part of the great lower chord +of the huge diamond-shaped truss, which, with its parallel sixty feet +away on the other side of the bridge and its two opposites across the +river, supported the whole structure. If anything were wrong, +seriously, irreparably wrong, with the member and it gave way, the +whole truss would go. The other truss would inevitably follow suit, +and the cantilever would immediately collapse. Abbott realized that, +of course, as he climbed carefully down to the pier head and stood on +the shoe. + +Now the member was composed of four steel webs, each one made up of +several plates of steel riveted together to form one huge plate. +These four parallel webs were bound into one member and held rigid by +steel lacings, which criss-crossed above and below the edges of the +four webs. These steel lacings were angle bars riveted to the +several webs and were also riveted through plates where they crossed, +and finally were fastened to the edges of the webs. It was this +massive and imposing piece of structural steel work which had got a +little out of line, and which Abbott, perturbed in spite of himself, +had come down to inspect, to see if there were any real ground for +Meade's excitement and alarm. + +It is wonderful how well-trained our physical senses may become. The +final perfections of curvature in a great lens are the results of +refinements of the sense of touch in the manufacturer's hands. So +much had long experience taught Abbott that, as he stood by the +member and surveyed it throughout its length, he could easily see +that it had buckled, although the deviation was so slight, about two +inches at its maximum in sixty feet. He brought with him a line and, +with infinite care and pains, he drew it taut across the slight +concavity like a bow-string. He had estimated the camber, or the +distance between the center of the bow and the string, at one and a +half inches. As he made more careful measurements, he discovered +that it was slightly over one and three-quarter inches. Did this +denote an increase? Abbott thought not. The difference simply lay +between an estimate, however careful, and the actual measurements. + +An inch and three-quarters in seven hundred and twenty was scarcely +noticeable, not noticeable at all to the untrained eye, unless +actually squinting along the line, and it did not seem very much to +Abbott, standing on the pier head and looking up through the network +of struts and bracing and girders. As he stood there feeling himself +an insignificant figure amid this great interwoven mass of steel, +again the sense of its strength and stability came to him +overpoweringly, so much so that he laughed aloud in a rather grim +fashion at the unwonted nervousness which had been induced in his +mind by Meade's words and actions. + +He would have been content to have left the pier head and have +climbed back to the floor of the bridge, but he was a conscientious +man, so he pursued his investigations further. He climbed up on top +of the member, which was easy enough by means of the criss-crossed +lacing, and carefully inspected that lacing. He did not, of course, +look at every one of the bars of steel that bound together the giant +webs that made up the member, but he gave a very careful and minute +scrutiny to the lacings at the center of the concavity, or sidewise +spring from the right line. + +He noticed, by getting down on his face and surveying the lacing bars +closely, a number of fine hair-line cracks in the paint, surface +traceries apparently, running here and there from the rivet holes. +The rivets themselves had rather a strained look. Some of the outer +rivets seemed slightly loose, where before they must have been tight, +for the members, like all other parts of the bridge, had been +carefully inspected at the shop and any looseness of the rivets would +certainly have been noticed there. But, at the time these +discoveries were made, Abbott's obsession as to the strength of the +bridge had grown stronger. Lining it out, crawling over it, feeling +its rigidity, he decided that these evident strains were to be +expected. Of course the lacings that held the webs together would +have to take up a terrific stress. They had been designed for that +purpose. + +The best engineer had made the design and now the best erector found +no radical fault with it. The other members of the truss were still +in line. Abbott clambered over to the next one and examined some of +the lacings there. He found a few of those hair-line paint cracks; +not quite so many, but still some. He had brought with him a small +hammer and he struck the lacing here and there, straining his ear to +see if he could discover any difference in resonance between those at +this point, at which the greater stress was being brought, because of +the curvature, and others in other places. There was a difference, +but it would have taken a finer ear than Abbott's, somewhat deafened +by the constant noise of the pneumatic riveters, to realize the +danger in the slight increase in sharpness of the resonance of the +lacings that were most strained. Largely because he did not find +anything very glaring, and because he wanted to believe what he +believed, the chief of construction left the pier head and clambered +up to the floor with more satisfaction in his heart than his somewhat +surprising anticipation, which had so unwillingly grown under the +stimulus of Meade's persistence, had led him to expect. + +The whistle was just blowing for the commencement of work when he got +back to the bridge floor. He could not but reflect, as the men came +swarming along the tracks to begin their day's work, that the +responsibility for their lives lay with him. Well, Abbott was a big +man in his way, he had assumed responsibilities before and was +perfectly willing to do so again, both for men and bridge. The +workmen at least had no suspicions or premonitions of disaster. + +Wilchings, the chief erecting foreman, knew about the camber. It had +not bothered him. As he approached the two exchanged greetings. + +"You're out early, Mr. Abbott," said Wilchings. + +"Yes, I've been down to examine C-10-R." + +Wilchings laughed. + +"That little spring is nothing." He looked over the track and +through the maze of bracing at the member. "If we had a pier +somewhere we could hold up the earth with that strut. You didn't +find out anything, did you?" + +"Not a thing except some hair-line cracks in the paint around the +rivets." + +"You'll often find those where there's a heavy load to take up. This +bridge will stand long after you and I and every man on it has quit +work for good." + +Now Wilchings was a man of experience and ability, and if Abbott had +needed any confirmation of his opinion this careless expression would +have served. He did send him across the river to examine the +half-completed cantilever on the other bank, upon which work had been +suspended, awaiting shipments of steel. Wilchings later reported +that it was all right, which was what he expected, of course, and +this also added to Abbott's confidence. + +The day was an unusually hard one. A great quantity of structural +steel that had been delayed and which had threatened to hold up the +work, arrived that day and the chief of construction was busier than +he had ever been. He was driving the men with furious energy. Even +under the best conditions it would be well-nigh impossible to +complete the bridge on time. Abbott had pride in carrying out the +contract and the financial question was a considerable one. Had it +not been for that, perhaps, he would have paid more attention to +Meade's appeal. So he hurried on the work at top speed. + +But a man may be persuaded and yet not satisfied. All day long +Abbott, confident, yet unforgetting, had in mind that questionable +member. His work kept him on shore a large part of the time and the +further away he got from it and from the powerful persuasiveness of +the actually existent standing bridge, the stronger grew his unease. +He sought to laugh himself out of it, to strengthen his convictions +that it was nothing by self-ridicule. He worked himself up into a +state of positive resentment and anger against Meade. He cursed him +for a fool and himself likewise, still he could not get away from the +thought. It was in his mind. Suppose--it was impossible to suppose! + +Late in the afternoon, without saying anything to Wilchings, who had +resumed his regular work, or to anybody in fact, Abbott went down to +look at the member again. He climbed down a hundred feet or more to +make another examination at the expense of much valuable time, for he +had not passed so busy a day as that one since the bridge began. +Abbott's judgment and reasoning told him that it was time thrown +away. Nevertheless, despite his convictions, he went. He made +another careful examination, and, in fact, duplicated his procedure +of the morning. Everything was exactly as it had been. Those +hair-line cracks had troubled him a little despite Wilching's remark. +He studied them a second time. They were just as they had been, so +far as he could tell, no larger, no more numerous. The lacings rang +exactly the same under his hammer. + +Abbott was cool enough ordinarily, but he was now so angry with +himself for having given away to foolish fears, that, in a fit of +temper, he threw the hammer into the water--and it was indicative of +how the situation had got on his nerves--as he declared to himself +that he would not go down there again. By this time old Meade and +the bridge people and Curtiss, the chief engineer, must know all +about it. He had actually visited the telegraph office a dozen +times--unnecessarily, of course, since any wire would have been +delivered at once to him. The fact that he had not heard from them +gave him renewed confidence. They evidently regarded it of little +moment. They were probably laughing at Meade, Junior, as they would +laugh at him if they ever learned of his nervousness. He realized, +of course, that he could never jack the springing member back into +line. As Meade had said, there was nothing to jack against. Also it +would be practically impossible to haul it back by turn-buckles +attached to the parallel truss. Indeed he had only said these things +carelessly. It would have to stay the way it was until he got +definite instructions from Martlet what to do. + +He climbed back to the floor of the bridge and spent the next +half-hour inspecting the progress of the work. The suspended span +had already been pushed out far beyond the end of the cantilever. +The work on the other side of the river had been stopped. As soon as +they got the suspended span halfway over they would transfer the +workmen and finish the opposite cantilever. Abbott calculated that +perhaps in another week they could get it out if he drove the men. +He looked at his watch, grudgingly observing that it was almost five +o'clock. The men were nothing to Abbott. The bridge was everything. +That is not to say he was heartless, but the bridge and its erection +were supreme in his mind. As he stood surveying the mighty structure +he felt as Napoleon might have felt when he looked beyond the men and +horses who would perish in the next battle he was planning, to the +mighty end he had in view. + +The material was arriving and everything was going on with such a +swing and vigor that he would fain have kept them at work an hour or +two longer. The men themselves did not feel that way. Some of the +employees of the higher grades had got the obsession of the bridge, +but to most of them it was the thing they worked at, by which they +got their daily bread--nothing more. + +Those who worked by the day were already laying aside their tools, +and preparing for their departure. They always would get ready so +that at the signal all that was left to do was to stop. The +riveters, who were paid by the piece, kept at it always to the very +last minute. As Abbott watched and waited he was unusually conscious +in some strange way of the wild clamor of the work. He had been +standing near the outer end of the cantilever and, as if to get rid +of it, he turned and walked toward the bank. The pneumatic riveters +were rat-tat-tatting on the rivet heads with a perfectly damnable +iteration of insistent sound. The steam winch on the traveler was +blowing off steam almost like a locomotive, preparatory to the rest +of the night. A confused babel of voices, the clatter of hammers, +the slithering, ringing sounds of swinging steel grating against +steel as the huge cranes lifted the girders and braces and dropped +them in their places, the deeper crash of beams being unloaded from +the trucks and dropped heavily on the stringers and floor beams, the +clanking of trucks, the grinding of wheels, the deep breathing of the +locomotives, mingled in a hard, harsh, unharmonious diapason of +horrid sound. Abbott's usual iron nerves had been severely strained +that day. Ordinarily he was as indifferent to those noises as if he +had been a deaf man. Now they irritated him. In his irritation he +turned instinctively to the cause of it. + +He was right above the pier head now. He looked down at it through +the struts and floor beams and braces, fastening his gaze on the +questioned member. There it stood satisfactorily, of course. Yet, +something impelled him to walk out on the nearest floor beam to the +extreme edge of the truss and look down at it once more, leaning far +out to see it better. He could get a better view of it with nothing +between it and him. It still stood bravely. It was all right, of +course. He wished that he had never said a word about it to anyone. +He did not see why he could not regard it with the indifference that +it merited. As he stared down at it over the edge of the truss the +whistle for quitting blew. + +Every sound of work ceased after the briefest of intervals, except +here and there a few riveters driving home a final rivet kept at it +for a few seconds, but only for a few seconds. Then, for a moment a +silence like death itself intervened. It even seemed as if the ever +blowing wind had been momentarily stilled. That shrill whistle and +the consequent cessation of the work always affected everybody the +same way. There was inevitably and invariably a pause. The contrast +between the noise and its sudden stoppage was so great that the men +instinctively waited a few seconds and drew a breath before they +began to light their pipes, close their tool boxes, pick up their +coats and dinner pails, and resume their conversation as they +strolled along the roadway to the shore. + +It seemed to Abbott, who had often noted the psychological effect of +the stoppage of work on the men, that it had never been so silent on +the bridge before. There was almost always a breeze, sometimes a +gale, blowing down or up the gorge through which the river flowed, +but that afternoon not a breath was stirring. The void was as empty +and as still as the hearts or minds of the workmen. Abbott found +himself waiting in strained and unwonted suspense for the next second +or two, when the silence would be broken almost as if by concerted +effort by the men. + +While he waited, his eyes were not idle. They were fixed on the +member. The long warm rays of the afternoon sun illuminated it so +clearly that he could see every detail of it. In that second +immediately below him, far down toward the pier head he saw a sudden +flash as of breaking steel. Low, but clear enough in the intense +silence, he heard a popping sound like the snap of a great finger. +Then the bright gleam of freshly broken metal caught his excited +glance. + +Abbott instantly realized what was happening. The lacing was giving +way. Meade was right. The member would go and with it---- He had a +second or two to call his own. The habit, the character of the man +put them to the best use possible. The first pop or two was +succeeded by a little rattle as it might be a rain of revolver shots +heard from a distance, as the lacings gave way in quick succession. +It was a sort of accompaniment to what Abbott shouted. He was a man +with a powerful voice and he raised it to its limit and expanded it +to its full compass. + +The idle workmen, just beginning to laugh and jest, heard a great cry: + +"_Off the bridge, for God's sake!_" + +Two or three, among them Wilchings, who happened to be within a few +feet of the landward end, without understanding why, but impelled by +the agony, the appeal, the horror in the great shout of the master +builder, leaped for the shore. On the bridge itself some stepped +forward, some stood still staring, others peered downward. It takes +minutes to tell it and to read it, but probably not three seconds +passed between the first snap of the first lacing bar and the utter +collapse of the member. The great sixty-foot webs of steel wavered +like ribbons in the wind. The bridge shook as if in an earthquake. +There was a heavy, shuddering, swaying movement and then the +six-hundred foot cantilever arm plunged downward, as a great ship +falls into the trough of a mighty sea. Sharp-keyed sounds cracked +out overhead as the truss parted at the apex, the outward half +inclining to the water, the inward half sinking straight down. + +Shouts, oaths, screams rose, heard faintly above the mighty bell-like +requiem of great girders, struts, and ties smiting other members and +ringing in the ears of the helpless men like doom. Then, with a +fearful crash, with a mighty shiver, the landward half collapsed on +the low shore, like a house of cards upon which has been laid the +weight of a massive hand. The river section, carrying the greater +load at the top and torn from its base, plunged, like an avalanche of +steel, two hundred feet down into the river, throwing far ahead of +it, as from a giant catapult, the traveler on the outward end of the +suspended span and a locomotive on the floor beneath. + +Wilchings, and the few men safe on the shore, stood trembling, +looking at the bare pier head, at the awful tangled mass of wreckage +on the shore between the pier and the bank; floor beam and stringer, +girder and strut, bent, twisted, broken in ragged and horrible ruin, +while the water, deeper than the chasm it had cut, rolled its waves +smoothly over the agitations of the great plunge beyond the pier. +They stared sick and faint at the tangled, interwoven mass of steel, +ribboning in every direction--for in the main the rivets held so it +was not any defect of joints, but structural weakness in the body of +the members that had brought it down--and inclosing as in a net many +bodies that a few seconds before had been living men. + +They had seen body after body hurled through the air from the outward +end and, as they gazed fearfully in horror here and there dark +figures floated to the surface of the water. They caught glimpses of +white, dead faces as the mighty current rolled them under and swept +them on. And no sound came from the hundred and fifty who had gone +down with the bridge. The two-hundred foot fall would have killed +them without the smashing and battering and crashing of the great +girders that had fallen upon them or driven them from the floor and +hurled them, crushed and broken, into the river. + +They stared across the crumpled ruin between them and the pier and +out beyond the now frightfully bare stretch of water to the +uncompleted truss still rising grandly on the other side and the very +contrast between its mass and strength and splendor emphasized the +frightful, awe-inspiring nakedness of the battered pier before them. + +Yes, Meade had been right. Abbott had one swift flash of +acknowledgment, one swift moment packed with such regrets as might +fill a lifetime--an eternity in a Hell of Remorse--before he, like +the rest, had gone down with the bridge! + + + + +XIII + +THE WOMAN'S CHOICE + +The message was received in ghastly silence. The blood ran cold in +the veins as the people in the room took in the awful disaster. No +one spoke for a moment, none moved. They had all been shocked into +insensibility. Colonel Illingworth's face had lost its pallor. It +was fiery red as if gorged with blood. Bertram Meade was whiter than +any other man in the room. He was thinking of his father. What an +end to such a career! One failure to outweigh a thousand successes. + +The girl moved first. Her father and the young engineer were the two +men in whom she was most interested, the two who were most deeply +touched. They were both in agony, both in need of her. To which +would she go? Unhesitatingly she stepped to the side of the younger. +For this cause shall a woman leave her father and her mother! And +never believe but that the father saw and understood even in the +midst of his suffering. Youth thinks not, but fathers always know. + +Helen Illingworth laid her hand on Meade's arm. She pressed close to +his side. Together they confronted the older man. She had chosen. + +"We are ruined," gasped the Colonel, tugging at his collar. "It's +not so much the financial loss, although we put millions into that +bridge, which now is only good for the scrap heap. We could stand +that--but our reputation! We'll never get another contract. I might +as well close the works. And it is your father's fault. It's up to +him. He was the greatest bridge engineer on this continent. He +revised our design. He changed it in accordance with his knowledge +and experience and he gave us column formulas of his own. The blood +of those men is upon his head. Well, sir, I'll let the whole world +know how grossly incompetent he is, how----" + +"Sir," said young Meade, standing very erect and whiter than ever, +since the hour had come to take the blame, "the fault is mine. I +made the calculations. I checked and rechecked them. Nobody could +know with absolute certainty the ability of the lower chord members +to resist compression. But whatever the fault, it is mine. My +father had absolutely nothing to do with it. He is----" + +"He's got to bear the responsibility," cried the Colonel +passionately. "It has his name----" + +"No, I tell you," thundered the younger man. "For I'll proclaim my +own responsibility. You knew that I had much to do with it. You +said at the time that you were playing in great luck because you got +not only the experience of my father, but the knowledge and the +latest methods of his son, for one figure. Now the fault is all mine +and I'll publish the fact from one end of the world to the other." + +"It's a load I wouldn't want to have on my conscience," said Colonel +Illingworth. + +"The ruin of a great establishment like the Martlet," added Dr. +Severence. + +"The dishonor to American engineering," said Curtiss. + +"And the awful loss of life," continued the Colonel. + +"I assume them all," protested the young man, forcing his lips to +speak, although the cumulative burdens set forth so clearly and so +mercilessly bade fair to crush him. + +"It was only a mistake," protested Helen Illingworth, drawing closer +to her lover's side, and with difficulty resisting a temptation to +clasp him in her arms. + +"A mistake!" exclaimed her father bitterly. + +"You said yourself," urged the woman, turning to the chief engineer, +"that you didn't know whether the designs would work out, that nobody +could know, but you were convinced that they would." + +"I did," admitted Curtiss. + +"Under the circumstances, then," said the girl, "I stand by----" + +"Wait," interrupted the father. "Meade, there is one consequence you +have got to bear that you haven't thought of." + +"What is that?" + +"Helen." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Do you think I'd let my daughter marry a man who had ruined me, an +incompetent engineer by his own confession, a----" + +"It is just," said Meade. "I have nothing further to do here, +gentlemen. I must go to my father." + +"Just or not," cried Helen Illingworth, "I can't allow you to dispose +of me in that way, father. If he is as blamable as he says he is, +and as you say he is, now is the time above all others for the woman +who loves him to stand by him." + +"Miss Illingworth, you don't know what you are saying," said Meade, +forcing himself into a cold formality he did not feel. "I am +disgraced, shamed. There is nothing in life for me. My chosen +profession--my reputation--everything is gone." + +"The more need you have for me, then." + +"It is noble of you. I shall love you forever, but----" + +He turned resolutely away and walked doggedly out of the room. Helen +Illingworth made a step to follow him. + +"Helen," interposed her father, catching her almost roughly by the +arm in his anger and resentment, "if you go out of this door after +that man, I'll never speak to you again." + +"Father, I love you. I'm sorry for you. I would do anything for you +but this. You have your friends. That man, yonder, has nothing, +nothing but me. I must go to him." + +She turned and went out of the room without a backward look or +another word, no one detaining her. Now it happened that by hurrying +down the hill in the station wagon, which he had bidden wait for him, +Bertram Meade had just caught a local train, which made connections +with the Reading Express some twenty miles away, and Helen +Illingworth in her dog-cart reached the station platform just in time +to see it depart. She thought quickly and remembered that ten miles +across the country another railroad ran and if she drove hard she +could possibly catch a train which would land her in Jersey City a +few minutes before the train her lover caught. + +She ran to the telephone and called for her own car in a hurry. She +jumped into it a few minutes later and told the chauffeur that she +wanted to catch the next express on the Pennsylvania Road. The news +of the fall of the bridge was already abroad in the town. The man +had heard how Meade had taken the blame, and had caught the local by +furious driving. He had heard how Miss Illingworth had followed. It +had become known, through her maid, that Meade and the president's +daughter were engaged. The chauffeur scented a romance at once. And +he drove the car as he had never driven before. + +The girl caught the express and reached Manhattan Junction on time. +In this case there was no delay. She had decided _en route_ that it +would be impossible for her to get from the Pennsylvania station to +the Reading station in Jersey City in time to intercept her lover in +the short margin of time at her disposal and she had determined upon +a course of action. She would ride to the Hudson Terminal in the +city and then go first to the office of Bertram Meade, Senior. If he +were not there she would go to his residence. She had visited both +places before, and she was certain that she would find both Meades at +one place or the other. + +The newsboys on the street were already crying the loss of the +bridge. She saw the story displayed in lurid red headlines as she +sprang into the taxi and bade the chauffeur hurry her to the Uplift +Building further downtown. The bill she handed him in advance made +him recklessly break the speed-limit, too. + + + + +XIV + +FOR THE HONOR OF THE SON + +Bertram Meade, Senior, had not left the office during the whole long +afternoon. The stunning force of his son's utterly unexpected +announcement had wrecked the father as surely as the defective member +would wreck the bridge. The boy might delude himself with the +youthful hope that something could be done to save it, but the old +man knew that the bridge was doomed and he realized that his own ruin +in professional fame would follow its downfall. + +He sat alone in his office quietly waiting for the end, not as one +awaiting a death sentence, but rather as one who had been tried, +convicted, and sentenced might await the moment of execution. As to +the drowning, in the brief interval preceding the final asphyxia, +life unrolls in rapid review, so pictures of the past took form and +shape in his mind. He recalled many failures. No success is +uninterrupted and unbroken. The little stones of progress are +planted on the recurrent hills of mistake. It is through constant +blundering that we arrive. "Roses, roses all the way" generally ends +in the gibbet. He had learned to achieve by failing as everybody +else learns. But failures and mistakes, which were pardonable in the +beginning of his career, could not be condoned now; those should have +taught him. He realized too late that his later achievement had +begot in him a kind of conviction of omniscience, a belief in his own +infallibility, bad for a man. His pride had gone before, hard upon +approached the fall. He had been so sure of himself that even when +the possibility that he might be mistaken had been pointed out and +even argued, he had laughed it to scorn. His son's arguments he had +held lightly on account of his youth and comparative inexperience--to +his sorrow he realized it, too late. + +Again came that strange feeling of pride, the only thing which could +in any way alleviate his misery or lighten his despair. It was his +own son who had pointed out the possible defect. Youth more often +than not disregards the counsel of age. In this case age had made +light of the warnings of youth. It was a strange reversal he +thought, grimly recognizing a touch of sardonic and terrible humor in +the situation. + +Of course in that swift survey of his career which he was making, he +counted success after success, cumulating in magnitude and greatness. +Not easily, not lightly, had he risen to the chief place in his +profession. Verily his path to the stars had been through +difficulties, as well as failure, and yet he recognized bitterly that +no one would ever think of his success again in the face of this one +awful failure. Certain words that he had read in his Bible came to +him and seemed strangely applicable, though here was no question of +moral guilt. + +"_When the righteous turneth away from his righteousness and +committeth iniquity--shall he live? All his righteousness that he +hath done shall not be mentioned; in his trespass that he hath +trespassed and in his sin that he hath sinned, in them shall he die._" + +He had always rather felt some injustice in the proposition despite +its divine sanction. He had questioned it. He did not question it +now. He knew that when men looked at the finest structure due to his +cunning devising and scientific planning they would say: + +"Yes, that's one of Meade's designs. I wonder how long it will +stand. You know he was responsible for the International." + +In his case the end would not crown the work. It would destroy it. +He would be remembered as one confounded like the builders of Babel, +the tower by which men overpassed the limit divine. + +"Whom the gods destroy they first make mad." Well, he had been mad +enough. If he had only listened to the boy. And now there was +nothing he could do but wait. Yes, as the long hours passed and the +sun declined, and the evening approached, there suddenly flashed upon +him that there was still something he could do. He had experienced +some strange physical sensations during that afternoon, unease in his +breast, some sharp pains about his heart. What did it mean? Was it +mental or physical? He forgot them for the moment in the idea that +had come to him. + +When the bridge fell he would avow the whole responsibility, take all +the blame. Fortunately for his plans his son had reduced to writing +his views on the compression members, which had almost taken the form +of protest, and this letter had been handed to his father. His first +mind had been to tear it up after he had read it and had overborne +the objections contained therein, but on second thought he had +carefully filed it away with the original drawings. It was, of +course, in the younger Meade's own handwriting. + +He went to his private safe, unlocked it,--and that he was a long +time over the combination might have been indicative of his state, +but he thought of the delay with nothing but vexation--and brought +out the plans. He had intended upon the completion of the bridge to +give the letter back to the young man. He had keenly enjoyed by +anticipation his prospective little triumph when time had proved the +father right, the son wrong. He opened the drawings and found the +letter attached to the sheet of drawings. He put back the other +drawings and closed the safe without locking it. Then he went back +to the desk and considered the document. There were the calculations +of the younger Meade. He was too old and tired to verify them all +and there was no need. The bridge itself was doing that. + +But he read the letter over, and in the illumination of the event he +wondered dumbly how he could have failed to see the clearness, the +cogency of the arguments, the finality of the conclusions, even +without the careful computations he could not now follow. He had +been blind, mad. He laid the paper down on his desk and put his hand +to his heart. Yes, that pang must be mental. + +We look before and after. Some super-men, perhaps, see more at the +first glance than at the second, but most men, even the great, +comprehend more largely in the afterlook. These papers, when they +were published, with his own comment or admission, would rehabilitate +the younger Meade. They would do more to confirm his own damnation +because it would appear from them that he had been unable even to see +the truth when it was presented to him. Well, he would be condemned +so completely anyway that any addition, or subtraction for that +matter, would scarcely alter the state of affairs. + +Of course he would submit those papers to the public at once. Was +there anything else he could do? Yes. He sat down at the desk and +drew a sheet of paper before him and began to write. Slowly, +tremblingly, he persevered, carefully weighing his words before he +traced them on the paper. He had not written very long before the +door of the outer office opened and he heard the sound of soft +footsteps entering the room. He recognized the newcomer. It was old +Shurtliff, a man who had been his private secretary and confidential +clerk for many years. He stopped writing and called to him. + +To a wonderful capacity for divining his employer's mind and +completing his often brief and unfinished sentences by an intuition +which was almost uncanny, Shurtliff added a quietness of manner that +would have been annoying to some men, but which was most admirably +complementary to the brisk, brusque, hurried, energetic habit of his +employer and friend, who was all action, who could never draw a plan +even or make a design without leaving it at frequent intervals to +walk up and down the room or to throw up his arms, to get motion and +action into life. + +Shurtliff was an old bachelor, gray, thin, tall, reticent. He had +but one passion--Meade, Senior; but one glory--the reputation of the +great engineer. Yes, and as there is no great passion without +jealousy, Shurtliff was filled with womanly jealousy of Bertram Meade +because his father loved him and was proud of him. Shurtliff knew +all about the private affairs of the two engineers, father and son. +He knew all about the protest of the younger Meade. The father had +told him just what he intended to do with it. + +Shurtliff's life was bound up in the office. Even holidays and +Sundays found him there for a part of the time at least. He might +not have anything at all to do, indeed his work had been growing +lighter as the older Meade had gradually withdrawn himself from +active practice, but the old secretary was only happy there. He +could breathe more freely and think more pleasantly and live more +contentedly in the office than anywhere else. He had few friends. +None at all who weighed in the balance with the older Meade. + +Shurtliff might have been a great man if left to himself or forced to +act for himself. But pursuing a great passion so long as he had he +had merged himself in the more aggressive personality of his employer +and friend. He had received a good engineering education, but had +got into trouble over a failure, a rather bad mistake in his early +career, too big to be rectified, to be forgiven, or condoned. The +older Meade had taken him up, had been kind to him, had offered to +try to put him on his feet again, but Shurtliff had grown to love the +temporary work in which he had been engaged and he had no wish for +anything else. + +His big failure had increased his natural timidity, so he stayed on. +He had become a part of the old man's life. As years went by the +secretary came to realize that he could never be anything else. The +ambitions of youth were abandoned. He no longer dreamed dreams or +saw visions. Well, why not? He was absolutely alone in the world. +Meade had dealt generously with his humble coadjutor; Shurtliff +reasoned, perhaps, that he had as much from life as was coming to +him; his church, his modest club, the charities and benefactions he +loved to indulge in, assurance for his old age, and Meade himself. +What could such a man as he ask more? + +It has been said that he was jealous of the younger Meade; not +meanly, not unpleasantly jealous, more resentful perhaps at the +relative amount of affection the god of his idolatry bestowed upon +him. He knew that he had to take second place and that he ought to +take second place, and that if he failed to do so it would have been +a reflection upon the character of the man whose personality and fame +were dearer to him than anything else. Yet he did not enjoy that +position. + +Young Meade had never been able to get very far into the personality +of Shurtliff, but he liked him and respected him. He realized the +man's devotion to his father and he understood and admired him. +Aside from that jealousy the old man could not but like the young +one. He was too like his father for Shurtliff to dislike him. The +secretary wished him well, he wanted to see him a great engineer. Of +course he could never be the engineer that his father was. That +would not be in the power of man. But still, even if he never +attained that height, he could yet rise very high. Shurtliff would +not admit that there was anything on earth to equal Meade, Senior. + +In his dry, quiet way he had laughed with the older man over the +presumption in the younger man's protest and argument. Oh, not in +the presence of the younger man of course, but he had thoroughly +enjoyed it. He was waiting for the time to come for the return of +the protest. Meade, Senior, who had accepted all this devotion +without hesitation and perhaps without fully understanding it, had +told him that as he had heard the protest and argument he should be +present when it was returned. Shurtliff's own engineering skill was +not sufficient, since it had only been kept up by association as a +secretary to the elder man, not in active practice, to enable him to +pass judgment on the point himself. + +The secretary was greatly surprised that afternoon as he stopped +beside his own desk in his little private office, partitioned from +the outer room, to hear his name called from the inner office. He +recognized his employer's voice, of course, yet there was a strange +note in it which somehow gave him a sense of uneasiness. He went +into the room at once and stopped aghast. + +"Good God, Mr. Meade!" he exclaimed. + +Ordinarily he was the quietest and most undemonstrative of men. +There was something soft and subtle about his movements. An +exclamation of that kind had hardly escaped him in the thirty years +of their association. He checked himself instantly, but Meade, +Senior, understood that something of his own mental turmoil, the +agony inward and spiritual, must have appeared in the outward and +visible. He did not doubt his face told the story. The completeness +of the revelation and the terrible nature of the story he could not +guess. The day before Shurtliff had left Meade a hale, hearty, +vigorous, somewhat ruddy man. Now he found his employer old, white, +trembling, stricken. Meade looked at Shurtliff with a lack-luster +eye and with a face that was dead while it was yet alive. + +"Mr. Meade," began the secretary a second time, "what is the matter?" + +"The International Bridge," answered the other, and the secretary +noticed the strangeness of his voice more and more. + +"Yes, sir, what about it?" + +"It's about to collapse. Perhaps it has failed already." + +"Collapse? Impossible!" + +Meade passed his hand over his brow and then brought it down heavily +on the desk. + +"As we sit here, maybe, it is falling," he added somberly in a sort +of dull, impersonal way. + +Into the mind of the secretary came a foolish old line: "London +bridge is falling down, falling down!" He must be mad or Meade must +be mad. + +"I can't believe it, sir. Why?" + +"There's a deflection in one of the lower chord members of one and +three-quarters inches. It's bound to collapse. The boy was right, +Shurtliff," explained Meade. + +"That can't be, sir," cried out the secretary with startling energy. + +He would not allow even the idol itself to say that its feet were of +clay. + +"It can and is. He was right and I was wrong. I am ruined." + +"Don't say that, sir. You have never failed in anything. There must +be some means." + +"Shurtliff, you ought to know there is no power on earth could save +that member. It's only a question of time when it will fail." + +"But young Mr. Meade?" + +"He telegraphed me last night--this morning. I didn't get the wire. +He couldn't make telephone connections, so he came down on the night +train. Abbott refuses to take the men off the bridge unless he gets +orders from Martlet. We tried to get in touch with them. At last he +went down himself. I am expecting a wire every minute. If the +bridge will only stand until quitting time the men will all be off, +and there won't be any lives lost, but if not----" + +The secretary leaned back against the door-jamb, put his hand over +his face, and shook like a leaf. The old man eyed him. + +"Don't take it so hard," he said. "It's not your fault, you know." + +"Mr. Meade," burst out the other man, "you don't know what it means +to me. A failure myself, I have gloried in you. I--you have been +everything to me, sir. I can't stand it." + +"I know," said Meade kindly. He rose and walked over to the man, +laid his hand on his shoulder, took his other hand in his own. "It +hurts more, perhaps, to lose your confidence in me than it would to +lose the confidence of the world." + +"I haven't lost any confidence, sir. We all make mistakes. I made +one, you know, and you took me up." + +"It's too late for anybody to take me up. Men can't make mistakes at +my age. No more of that. We have still one thing to do." + +"And what is that, sir?" + +"Set the boy right before the world." + +"And ruin yourself?" + +"Of course, the truth is what ruins me." + +"But if I were your son, sir," said the secretary, "rather than see +you ruined I would take the blame on myself. He can live it down." + +"But he is not to blame. On the contrary he was right, and I was +wrong. Here, Shurtliff, is his own letter. You know it, you saw him +give it to me. You heard the conversation and I have written out a +little account explaining it, stating that I made light of his +protests, acknowledging that he was right and I was wrong, taking the +whole blame upon myself. He will be back here tonight I am sure. I +intended to give it to him." + +"Oh, don't do that, Mr. Meade." + +"You have no son of your own. You don't know what you ask." + +"Let the boy bear it," urged Shurtliff desperately. "By my long +service to you, I beg----" + +The telephone bell rang. + +"The Bridge!" clamored the insistent bell. + +The two old men stared at the instrument. It was the weaker who +acted, in obedience to a sign from the engineer. Staggering almost +like a drunken man, Shurtliff left his place by the door and passing +his companion, whose turn it was to shrink back against the wall, he +reached his thin hand out and lifted up the telephone, its bell +vibrating it seemed with angry, venomous persistence through the +quiet room. + +"It's a telegram," he whispered. "Yes, this is Mr. Meade's private +secretary. Go on," he answered into the mouthpiece of the telephone. + +There was another moment of ghastly silence while he took the +message. It was typical of Shurtliff's character that in spite of +the horrible agitation that filled him, he put the instrument down +carefully on the desk, methodically hanging up the receiver before he +turned to face the other man. He spoke deprecatingly. No woman +could exceed the tenderness he managed to infuse into his ordinarily +dry, emotionless voice. + +"The bridge is in the river, sir." + +"Of course, any more?" + +"Abbott--and one hundred and fifty men with it." + +"Oh, my God!" said the old man. + +He staggered forward. Shurtliff caught him and helped him down into +the big chair before the desk. The news had been discounted in his +mind, still some kind of hope had lingered there. Now it was over. + +"We must wire Martlet," he gasped out. + +"The telegraph office said the message was addressed to you and +Martlet, so they have got the news, sir." + +"It won't be too late for the last editions of the evening papers, +either," said the old man. "Shurtliff, I was going to give these +documents to the boy when he got back, but I want them to appear +simultaneously with the news of the failure of the bridge. Wait." +He seized the pen and signed his name to the brief letter of +exculpation. + +The writing in the body of the document was weak and feeble, the +signature was strong and bold. He gathered the papers up loosely. + +"Here," he said, "I want you to take them to a newspaper--the +_Gazette_--that will be certain to issue an extra if it is too late +for the last edition. I want this letter of his with mine to go side +by side with the news. There must not be a moment of uncertainty +about it." + +"Mr. Meade, for God's sake----" + +"Don't stop to argue with me now. Take a taxi and get there as +quickly as you can. You are carrying my honor, and my son's +reputation. Go." + +The old man spoke sharply--imperiously--in such a tone as he rarely +used to the other. White as death himself, and greatly shaken, +Shurtliff took the papers, folded them up methodically, and hunted +for an envelope. + +"Don't stay for anything, Shurtliff," repeated Meade, "but go +quickly. Stay at the _Gazette_ office until the extra comes out. +Bring me one. I'll wait here for you." + +Shurtliff did not dare to say anything further. Although thousands +of protests rushed to his lips he did not give them utterance. As if +it had been an ordinary commission he was charged to execute, he +turned and walked out of the room. He paused as he reached the door +and looked back. The old engineer sat before his desk, the pen still +in his right hand, his left hand clenched and extended across the +desk. He sat erect. Something of the dignity and the pride and +strength and firmness of the days before had come back to him. He +smiled faintly. His old friend closed the door behind him and +departed. + + + + +XV + +FOR THE HONOR OF THE FATHER + +Two and one-half hours later a group of anxious reporters, clustered +at the door of the Uplift Building, were galvanized into life by the +arrival of a taxicab. The chauffeur had driven like one possessed. +Out of it leaped Bertram Meade. He was recognized instantly. + +"At last," said the foremost of them, as he recognized the newcomer. +"We'll get something definite now." + +"You know about the bridge, Mr. Meade," asked another, striving to +force his way through the crowd, which broke into a sudden clamor of +questioning. + +Meade nodded. He recognized the first speaker, their hands met. +This was a man of his own age named Rodney, who had been Meade's +classmate at Cambridge, his devoted friend thereafter. Instead of +active practice he had chosen to become a writer on scientific +subjects and was there as a representative of _The Engineering News_. +There were sympathy and affection in his voice, and look, and in the +grasp of his hand. + +"Have you seen my father, Rodney?" Meade asked, quickly moving to the +elevator, followed by all the men. + +"At the house they said he was not there, and here at the office we +get no answer." + +As Meade turned he saw his father's secretary coming slowly through +the entrance. + +"There's his secretary," he said. "Shurtliff," he called out. + +"Yes, Mr. Meade," said the old man, who was a pitiable spectacle. + +For an instant young Meade realized what this would be to Shurtliff. + +"My father?" + +"I left him in the office two hours ago." + +"Had he heard the news? + +"It had just come, sir, and----" + +"Where have you been?" + +"He told me to--to--go away and--and leave him alone. I have been +wandering about the streets. My God, Mr. Meade, what is going to +become of us?" + +Outside in the street the newsboys were shrieking: + +"Extry! Extry! All about the collapse of the International Bridge. +Two hundred engineers and workmen lost." + +Shurtliff had one of the papers in his hand. Meade tore it from him. + +"WHO IS RESPONSIBLE?" stared at him in big red headlines. + +"Gentlemen," said Meade, "I can answer that question"--he held up the +paper so that all might see--"the fault--the blame--is mine." + +"We'll have to see your father, Bert," said Rodney. + +"He can add nothing at all to what I have said, old man." + +"He will have to confirm it," said another. "It's too grave a matter +to rest on your word alone." + +"You can't see my father." + +"He is in this building, we know, and he'll never leave it without +running the gauntlet of us all," cried another amid a chorus of +approval. + +Meade realized there was no escape. They all piled into the elevator +with him and Shurtliff. They followed him up the corridor. He +stopped before the door of the office. + +"I forbid you to come in," he said. "This is my father's private +office----" + +"Have no fear, Bert," said Rodney firmly. "We don't intend to break +in. We understand how you feel. We won't cross that threshold +unless and until you invite us. But I point out to you that this is +a matter of the greatest public concern, that hundreds of lives have +been lost, that the whole world is interested, that somebody is to +blame. You say that you are, but your father was the chief engineer. +His is the responsibility unless it can be shown otherwise." + +"If you will give me ten minutes, Rod, I will admit you and all the +rest. You can then see my father and you may question him fully." + +"Very good, that's perfectly fair," said Rodney. "And I am sure I +speak for the others. We will wait here until you say the word and +then all we shall want will be a statement from your father." + +"Thank you, old man. Come, Shurtliff," said Meade, turning his key +in the lock. The two men entered and carefully closed the door +behind them. + +The door was scarcely shut when Helen Illingworth left the elevator +and came rapidly up the corridor. She had called at the office +before and had no need to ask the way. The reporters gathered around +the door moved to give her passage while they stared at her with deep +if respectful curiosity. Many of these men were the iron and steel +business reporters. They did not know her, of course, but her +beauty, her distinction, and her interest, and even her distress, +were evident. The reporters who dealt in social matters would have +recognized her at once. Indeed her face was vaguely familiar to some +of them because she was a reigning beauty and a belle, and her +picture had appeared in different papers many times. + +"Pardon me, gentlemen," she began, "but I am very anxious to see the +younger Bertram Meade." + +"He has just gone into the office," answered Rodney respectfully. + +The girl raised her hand to knock. + +"A moment, please; perhaps you had better understand the situation. +The International Bridge----" + +"I know all about it." + +"I represent _The Engineering News_ and these other gentlemen various +New York papers. Now Meade, Junior, has just assumed the full +responsibility for the faulty construction and we are waiting to get +confirmation of that from his father. It is a serious matter and----" + +The girl came to a sudden determination. She could not declare +herself too soon or too publicly. + +"My name is Illingworth," she said, and as the hats of the surprised +reporters came off, she continued, "I am the daughter of the +president of the Martlet Bridge Company, which was erecting the +International." + +"Yes, Miss Illingworth," answered Rodney, "and did you come here to +represent him?" + +"I am Mr. Bertram Meade, Junior's, promised wife, and I am here +because it is the place where I ought to be. When the man I love is +in trouble I must be with him." + +Now she raised her hand again, but Rodney was too quick for her. He +knocked lightly on the door and then struck it heavily several times. +The sound rang hollowly through the corridor as it always does when +the door of an empty room is beaten upon. There was no answer for a +moment. + +"Oh, I must get in," said the woman. + +Rodney knocked again and this time the door was opened. Shurtliff +stood in the way. He had been white and shaken before, but there are +no adjectives to describe his condition now. So anguished and +shocked was his appearance that everybody stared. Shurtliff +moistened his lips and tried to speak. He could not utter a word, +but he did manage to point toward the private office. + +"Perhaps I would better go first," said Rodney, as the secretary +stepped back to give them passage. + +Helen Illingworth followed and then the rest. Young Meade was in the +private office into which they all came. He was standing erect by +his father's chair. He was pale and strained also, but in his eyes +burned the fire of deep determination. The great bulk of the old +engineer was slouched down in that chair. His body was bent down +over his desk. His head lay on the desk face downward. One great +arm, his left, extended shot straight across the desk. His fist was +clenched, his right arm hung limp by his side. He was still. + +There was something unmistakably terrible in his motionless aspect. +They had no need to ask what had happened. A sharp exclamation from +the woman, not a scream but a sort of catch of the breath as if to +repress an outbreak, was the only sound that broke the silence, as +she alone went toward the standing engineer. The men stood there +bareheaded while Helen Illingworth passed around Rodney and stepped +to her lover's side. + +"You can't question my father now, gentlemen," said Meade, who from +Meade Junior had suddenly become Meade Only, "he is dead." + +In the outer office they heard Shurtliff brokenly calling the doctor +on the telephone and asking him to notify the police. + +"Did he----" began one hesitatingly. + +"He was too big a man to do himself any hurt, I know," answered Meade +proudly, as he divined the question. "The autopsy will tell. But I +am sure that the failure of the bridge has broken his heart." + +"And we can't fix the responsibility now," said Rodney, who for his +friend's sake was glad of this consequence of the old man's death. + +"Yes, you can," said the young man. + +He leaned forward and laid his right hand on his dead father's +shoulder. Helen Illingworth had possessed herself of his left hand. +She lifted it and held it to her heart. The engineer seemed +unconscious of the action and still it was the greatest thing he had +ever experienced. Meade spoke slowly and with the most weighty +deliberation in an obvious endeavor to give his statement such clear +definiteness that no one could mistake it. + +"Here in the presence of my dead father," he began, "whose life I +have ended and whose career I have ruined, but whose fame shall be +unimpaired, I solemnly declare that I alone am responsible for the +design of the member that failed. My father was getting along in +years. He left a great part of the work to me. He pointed out what +he thought was a structural weakness in the trusses, but I overbore +his objections. I alone am to blame. The Martlet Bridge Company +employed us both. They said they wanted the benefit of my father's +long experience and my later training and research." + +"Do you realize, Meade," said Rodney, as the pencils of the reporters +flew across their pads, "that in assuming this responsibility which, +your father being dead, cannot be----" + +"I know it means the end of my career," said Meade, forcing himself +to speak those words. "My father's reputation is dearer to me than +anything on earth." + +"Even than I?" whispered the woman. + +"Oh, my God!" burst out the man, and then he checked himself and +continued with the same monotonous deliberation as before, and with +even more emphasis, "I can allow no other interest in life, however +great, to prevent me from doing my full duty to my father." + +Indeed, as he had been fully resolved to protect his old father's +fame had the father survived the shock, the fact that the old man was +dead and helpless to defend himself only strengthened his son's +determination. The appeal of the dead man was even more powerful +than if he had lived. Meade could not glance down at that crushed, +broken, impotent figure and fail to respond. It was not so much +love--never had he loved Helen Illingworth so much as then--as it was +honor. The obligation must be met though his heart broke like his +father's; even if it killed him, too. + +And the woman! How if it killed her? He could not think of that. +He could think of nothing but of that inert body and its demand. He +had to lie, even to swear falsely, before God and man if necessary, +for him. There was no other possible answer to what Meade, wrongly +if you will, but nevertheless unmistakably, conceived to be his +father's appeal. He completely misjudged his dead father, to be +sure. But that thought did not enter his head. He spoke as he did +because he must. + +"Have you no witnesses, no evidence to substantiate your +extraordinary statement?" asked Rodney. + +"I can substantiate it," said Shurtliff, coming into the room, having +finished his telephoning. "The doctor and the police will be here +immediately, but before they come----" and he drew himself up and +faced the reporters boldly. "Gentlemen, I can testify that +everything that Mr. Bertram Meade has said is true. I happened to be +here when my dead friend and employer got the telegram announcing the +failure of the bridge and, although he knew it was his son's fault, +he bravely offered to assume the responsibility and he told me to go +to the newspapers and tell them that it was his fault and that his +son had protested in vain against his design." + +"Why didn't you do it?" asked one of the reporters. + +"I couldn't, sir," faltered the old man. "It wasn't true. The son +there was to blame." + +He sank down in his seat and covered his face with his hands and +broke into dry, horrible sobs. It was not easy for him either, this +shifting of responsibility. + +"You see," said young Meade, "I guess that settles the matter. Now +you have nothing more to do here." + +"Nothing," said Rodney at last, "not in this office at least. We +must wait for the doctor, but we can do that outside." + +"Rod, will you kindly take charge outside--my father's secretary, you +see, is not able to do so--and let no one come in here except the +doctor until the police arrive. You have your story?" + +"Yes," said Rodney with a great pity for his friend, in whose +innocence he somehow continued to believe in spite of what he had +said. "We've had a full account of the accident telegraphed from the +works and now this completes it." + +One by one the men filed out, leaving the dead engineer with his son, +the secretary, and the woman in the room. + +The iron strain which Meade had put upon himself gave way and not the +least part of his breakdown was the consciousness of the lie he had +told so bravely and so gallantly to shield his father. And now at +last came the realization that he had not only thrown away his own +reputation and career, but that he had cast the woman he loved into +the discard also. He drew his hand away from her, turned, rested his +head on his arm on the top of the low bookcase as if to shut out from +his sight what he stood to lose. + +"Bert," said the woman, coming closer to him and laying her hand on +his shoulder, while he made no effort to turn his head around, "why +or how I feel it I cannot tell, but I know in my heart that you are +doing this for your father's sake, that what you said was not true. +Things you have said to me----" + +"Did I ever say anything to you," began Meade in fierce alarm, while +Shurtliff started to speak but checked himself, "to lead you to think +that I suspected any weakness in the bridge?" + +The woman was watching him keenly and listening to him with every +sense on the alert. Nothing was escaping her and she detected in his +voice a note of sharp alarm and anxiety as if he might have said +something which could be used to discredit his assertion now. + +"Perhaps not in words but in little things, suggestions," she +answered quietly. "I can't put my hand on any of them, I can hardly +recall anything, but the impression is there." + +Meade smiled miserably at her and again her searching eyes detected +relief in his. + +"It is your affection that makes you say that," he said, "and as you +admit there is really nothing. What I said just now is true." + +It was much harder to speak the lie to this clear-eyed woman, who +loved him, than to the reporters. He could scarcely complete the +sentence, and in the end sought to look away. + +"Bertram Meade," said the woman, putting both her hands upon his +shoulder, "look me in the face and before God and man, and in the +presence of your dead father and remembering I am the woman you love, +to whom you have plighted yourself, and tell me that you have spoken +the truth and that the blame is yours." + +Meade tried his best to return her glance, but those blue eyes +plunged through him like steel blades. He did not dream in their +softness could be developed such fire. He was speechless. After a +moment he looked away. He shut his lips firmly. He could not +sustain her glance, but nothing could make him retract or unsay his +words. + +"I have said it," he managed to get out hoarsely. + +"It's brave of you. It's splendid of you," she said. "I won't +betray you. I don't have to." + +"What do you mean?" asked the man. + +But the woman had now turned to Shurtliff. In his turn she also +seized him in her emotion and she shook him almost eagerly. + +"You, you know that it is not true. Speak!" + +But she had not the power over the older man that she had over the +younger. The secretary forced himself to look at her. He cared +nothing for Miss Illingworth, but he had a passion for the older +Meade that matched hers for the younger. + +"He has told the truth," he cried almost like a baited animal. "No +one is going to ruin the reputation of the man I have served and to +whom I have given my life without protest from me. It's his fault, +his, his, his!" he cried, his voice rising with every repetition of +the pronoun as he pointed at Meade. + +Helen Illingworth turned to her lover again. She was quieter now. + +"I know that neither of you is telling the truth," she said. "Lying +for a great cause, lying in splendid self-sacrifice. You are ruining +yourself for your father's name and he is abetting. Why? It can't +make any difference to him now. It would not make any difference to +him even if you were responsible for the collapse of the bridge. We +all make mistakes. My father has made many, and Mr. Curtiss. But it +makes a great difference to me. Have you thought of that? I'm going +to marry you anyway. All that foolish talk about our marriage +depending on the bridge is nothing. I told my father so. He said +he'd repudiate me if I came here. But he'll not do that. He'll be +terribly angry, but he'll forgive me. Only tell me the truth, Bert. +By our love I ask you. If you want me to keep your secret I'll do +it. Indeed I'll have to keep it, for I have no evidence yet to prove +it false, but if you won't tell me I'll get that evidence, I will +find out the truth, and then I shall publish it to the whole world +and then----" + +"And you would marry me then?" asked Meade, swept away by this +profound pleading. + +"I will marry you now, instantly, at any time," answered the girl. +"Indeed you need me. Guilty or innocent, I am yours and you are +mine." + +"You don't understand," said Meade. "I am ruined beyond hope. I +can't drag you down." + +"No," said the girl, "but you can lift me up as high as your heart, +and no man can place me in a nobler position." + +"Listen," protested the engineer, "nothing will ever relieve me of +the blame, of the shame, of the disgrace of this. My life as it has +been planned is now wrecked beyond repair. I don't know whether this +awful cloud can ever be lifted, whether I can ever be anything again +among men. But I am a man. I have youth still, and strength and +inspiration. When I can hold up my head among men and when I have +won back their respect, it may even be a meed of their admiration, I +shall humbly sue for that you now so splendidly offer, but until that +time I am nothing to you and you are free." + +There was a finality in his tone which the woman recognized. She +could as well break it down as batter a stone wall with her naked +fist. She looked at him a long time. + +"Very well," she said at last, "unless I shall be your wife I shall +be the wife of no man. I shall wait confident in the hope that there +is a just God, and that He will point out some way." + +"And if not?" + +"I shall die, when it pleases God, still loving you." + +"And being loved," he cried, sweeping her to his heart, "until the +end." + + + + +XVI + +THE UNACCEPTED RENUNCIATION + +The doctor and the officers of the law now entered the outer office. +Reluctantly the woman drew herself away from the man's arms, which +were as reluctant to release her. In spite of the brave words that +had been spoken by the woman the man could only see a long parting +and an uncertain future. He realized it the more when old Colonel +Illingworth entered the room in the wake of the others. After he had +recovered himself he had hurried to the station in time to catch the +next train and had come to New York, realizing at once where his +daughter must have gone; besides his presence was needed in New York +in view of the catastrophe. + +He had brushed by the reporters, refusing to listen to them. Not +anticipating what he saw as he entered the private office, the color +faded from his face as he became aware of the big, prostrate, inert +figure bending over the desk. It came again into his cheeks when he +saw his daughter. + +"My father is dead," said Meade as the doctor and the officers of the +law examined the body of the old man. The son had eyes for no one +but the old Colonel. "The failure of the bridge has broken his +heart; my failure, I'd better say." + +"I understand," said Illingworth. "He is fortunate. I would rather +have died than have seen any son of mine forced to confess criminal +incompetency like yours." + +"Father!" protested Helen Illingworth. + +"Helen," said the Colonel sternly, "you have no business to be here. +You heard what I said when you left me. But you are my daughter, my +only daughter. I was harsh, perhaps, and hasty. I came to fetch +you. Are you coming with me or do you go with this man--this +incompetent--upon whose head is the blood of the men who went down +with the bridge, to say nothing of the terrible material loss?" + +"Father," said the girl with a resolution and firmness singularly +like his own. "I can't hear you speak this way, and I will not." + +"Do you go with him or do you not?" thundered the Colonel. + +It was Meade who answered for her. + +"She goes with you. I love her and she loves me, but I won't drag +her down in my ruin." + +"It is he who renounces and not I," said the woman. "I am ready to +marry him now if he wishes." + +"I do not wish," said the man. + +And no one could ever know how hard was the utterance of those simple +words. + +"I am glad to see honor and decency are in you still," said the +Colonel, "even if you are incompetent." + +"If you say another word to him I will never go with you as long as I +live," flashed out Helen Illingworth. + +"I deserve all that he can say. Your duty is with him. Good-by," +said Meade. + +"And I shall see you again?" + +"Of course. Now you must go with your father." + +Helen Illingworth turned to the Colonel. + +"I shall go with you because he bids me, not because----" + +"Whatever the reason," said the old soldier, "you go." He paused a +moment, looking from the dead man to the living one. "Meade," he +exclaimed at last, "I am sorry for your father, I am sorry for you. +Good-by, and I never want to see you or hear of you again. Come, +Helen." + +The woman stretched out her hand toward her lover as her father took +her by the arm. Meade looked at her a moment and then turned away +deliberately as if to mark the final severance. + +With bent head and beating heart, she followed her father out of the +room. There he had to fight off the reporters. He denied that his +daughter was going to marry young Meade. She strove to speak and he +strove to force her to be quiet. In the end she had her way. + +"At Mr. Meade's own request," she said finally, "our engagement has +been broken off. Personally I consider myself as much bound as ever. +I can say nothing more except to add that my feelings toward Mr. +Meade are unchanged. If possible they are enhanced, but in deference +to his wishes and to my father's----" + +"Have you said enough?" roared the Colonel, losing all control of +himself at last. "No, I will not be questioned or interrupted +another minute. Come." + +He almost dragged the girl from the room. + +Within the private office the physician said that everything pointed +to a heart lesion, but only an autopsy would absolutely determine it. +Meanwhile the law would have to take charge of the body temporarily. +It was late at night before Bertram Meade and old Shurtliff were left +alone. Carefully seeing that no one was present in the suite of +offices Meade turned to Shurtliff. + +"You know the combination of the private safe?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Open it." + +The old man went to the door of the safe and discovered that it was +not locked. + +"It's open," he said. + +"Get me that memorandum I wrote to my father. You know where he kept +it." + +"Yes, sir, separate from the other papers concerning the +International, in the third compartment." He turned the big safe +door slowly. The third compartment was empty. "It's gone," he said. + +Meade looked at him sharply. + +"The plans are there?" + +"Yes, sir, in the other compartment just above it." + +"Look them over." + +"It's not here, sir," answered Shurtliff, making a bluff at going +rapidly through the papers. + +Meade went to the safe, a small one, and examined it carefully and +fruitlessly. His letter was not there with the other papers, where +it should have been if it were in existence. It was not anywhere. + +"Father told me he was going to destroy it, but from indications he +let drop I rather thought that he had changed his mind and was +keeping it to have some fun with me when the bridge was completed," +he said at last. + +"Yes, sir, that was his intention. In fact, I know he did not +destroy it at first. He told me to file it with the plans." + +"And did you?" + +"I did." + +"Where is it, then?" + +"I don't know, sir." + +"Shurtliff, you knew my father better than anyone on earth, didn't +you?" + +"Yes, sir, and loved him." + +"Do you think he is the kind of man who would relieve himself at my +expense, or at anybody's?" Meade almost shouted the words at the +secretary. + +"No, of course not." + +"Where is it, then?" + +"I don't know, sir. On second thoughts he must have destroyed it +later. I haven't looked in this compartment for weeks." + +"Well, it couldn't be anywhere but here unless it is in his desk at +home. I'll look there and you search the office here. When it is +found it must be destroyed. You understand?" + +"I understand; trust me, Mr. Meade." + +"I'll never forget the lie you told to back me up, Shurtliff. I can +see you loved him as much as I." + +"No one will ever know the truth from me, sir. You have saved your +father's name and fame." + +"I couldn't save his life, though." + +"No, but what you saved was dearer to him than life itself." + +"I think we had better search the office now. I wouldn't have that +paper come to life for the world," said Meade. + +Shurtliff was the most orderly of men. The care of the old +engineer's papers and other arrangements had devolved upon him. The +search was soon completed. The letter could not be found, and it +never occurred to Meade to search Shurtliff! + +"I guess he must have destroyed it," said the young man, "but to be +sure I will examine his private papers at home. Good-night. You +will be going yourself?" + +"In a few minutes, sir." + +"Come to me in the morning after the autopsy and we will arrange for +the funeral," said the younger man as he left the office. + +Shurtliff waited until his footsteps died away in the hall. He +waited until he heard the clang of the elevator gate. Even then he +was not sure. He got up and in his cat-like way opened the door of +the office and peered down the hall. It was empty. He stood in the +door waiting, while the night elevator made several trips up and down +without pausing at that floor. He sat down at the dead man's desk. +From his pocket he drew forth a packet of papers. + +There were three of them. The letter the young man had written to +his father, with the plan and the last note the old man had written +to the papers. Shurtliff had not delivered them. He could not make +up his mind to do it. He had correctly forecasted what Bertram would +attempt to do. He had not gone near the _Gazette_ office. He had +withheld these papers from the press. He had said nothing about them +to anyone, in the hope that he and the young man could persuade the +father to silence before the irreparable admission became known. And +finally a Power greater than he and the son together could exercise +had sealed the old man's lips forever. + +In his hands the devotee held the fame and the honor of the dead man +he had so loved. What that dead man would have had him do he knew +beyond a shadow of a doubt. He had not done it. He could not do it +now. He had disobeyed. He had lied. He had a keen conscience, too, +but the devotional habit of a lifetime was not to be altered for any +other man. Meade could live it down. Shurtliff had lived down his +failure. There would be some way. The young man was alive, he could +fight. The old man was dead. The secretary would better destroy the +papers. + +He struck a match, held it to the two letters and the plan and then, +as the paper broke into a tiny flame, he threw the match aside and +crumpled it out in his hands. The well-remembered face of the dead +man, the recollection of his commands, forbade him. He did not have +to give up those papers but he could not destroy them. He put them +back into the pocket of his coat and bent his head over the desk, his +left arm extended across it and clenched just in the last position of +the man he loved. He wished that he could die, too, and follow +after, faithful servant and friend that he was--or was he traitor and +recreant after all? + + + + +XVII + +THAT WHICH LAY BETWEEN + +There were no legal proceedings, of course, that could be brought +against the dead engineer or his son, although there were many +inquests at the bridge. The cause of the failure was clear. Man +cannot be punished in law for honest errors in judgment. It was +recognized by everyone, whose opinion was worth considering, that the +disaster had resulted from a mistake which any engineer could have +made. As a matter of fact there was no experience to guide the +designers. There never had been such a bridge before. Certain +elements of empiricism had to enter into their calculations. They +had made the plan after their best judgment and it had failed. They +could be blamed, censured, even vilified as they were in the press, +but that was the extent of their punishment; of Bertram Meade's +punishment, rather, because Rodney and the other reporters had made +much of his assumption of the blame. There might have been a doubt +of it, engineers at least might have suspected the truth, but the +evidence of Shurtliff put it beyond reasonable doubt. The older +Meade escaped lightly. Men could only point out his mistake in +committing such responsibilities to so young a man. And his dramatic +death in large measure disarmed criticism. + +The bitter weight of censure fell entirely upon Bertram Meade. His +ruin as an engineer was immediate and absolute. He was the +scapegoat. No one had any good to say of him except Rodney, who +fought valiantly for his friend and classmate, at least striving to +mitigate the censure by pointing out the quick and ready +acknowledgment of the error which might have been ascribed to the +dead man without fear of contradiction. + +An effort was made by competitors and stock speculators to ruin the +Martlet Bridge Company. By throwing into the gap their private +fortunes to the last dollar and by herculean work on the part of +their friends, the directors saved the Martlet Company, although its +losses were tremendous and almost insupportable, not only in money, +but in prestige and reputation. Colonel Illingworth came out of the +struggle older and grayer than ever. He went through the fires in +his effort to save the concern which had been the foundation of his +fortune and in which he felt a greater interest than in anything else +in life save his daughter. He had led his company, his battalion, +and finally his regiment, on many a hard-fought field in the War, but +no battle had ever been fiercer or called upon him for greater +efforts than this. The terrific combat had left him almost broken +for a time, and his daughter saw that it was not possible even to +mention Bertram Meade to him, then. + +She had a great sympathy, as well as a tender affection, for her +father. Albeit of a different kind, it was almost as great and +abiding as her sympathy and affection for her lover. She had seen +Meade only once since that day he had taken her to his heart by the +body of his dead father and then put her away. + +The funeral of the great engineer had been strictly private. Only +his confrères, men who stood high in scientific circles, certain +people for whom he had made great and successful designs, a few +others whose ties were personal, had been invited to the house for +the services. The interment was in the little Connecticut town of +Milford, in which the older Meade had been born, and from which he +had gone forth as a boy to conquer the world. + +Shurtliff, the clergyman, and a few of his father's oldest friends, +accompanied the young engineer to the car that was to take them to +that village. They rode with him to the quaint old cemetery and +stood by while those last words that are said over the greatest and +the weakest, over youth and age, over beauty and ugliness, over +virtue and shame, over triumph and defeat alike, were uttered, and +then at his wish they all went away. They felt deeply for the ruined +young engineer, who bade them good-by and stood by the side of the +grave with Shurtliff, while the men filled it in. The special car +would take the others back to New York. Meade would come later at +his own time. + +"Shurtliff," said the engineer, after the mound had been heaped up +and covered with sods and strewn with flowers and the workmen had +gone, "I have left everything I possess in your charge. You have a +power of attorney to receive and pay out all moneys; to deposit, +invest, and carry on my father's estate. The office is to be closed +and the house is to be sold. My will, in which I leave everything to +Miss Illingworth, is in your hands. You are empowered to draw from +the revenue of the estate your present salary so long as you live. +If anything happens to me you will have the will probated and be +governed accordingly." + +"Mr. Meade," said the old man, and he somehow found himself +transferring the affection which he had thought had been buried +beneath the sod on that long mound before him, to the younger man. +He had loved and served a Meade all his life and he began to see that +he could not stop now, nor could he lavish what he had to give merely +on a remembrance, "Mr. Meade," he said, "you are not going to do +yourself any hurt?" + +"If you knew me as well as you knew my father you would not ask the +question." + +"I beg your pardon, sir, but we seem to be rather alone, you and I, +in the world." + +"Yes," said Meade. + +"Well, forgive your father's old if humble friend, if he asks where +you are going and what you intend to do?" + +"I don't know where I shall go, or what I shall undertake +eventually," said the man. "I'm going to leave everything behind now +and try to get a little rest at first. Then, I shall try to make +another place for myself in the world, if I can, and I'm going to do +it without any of the advantages or disadvantages of the period of my +life which ends today." + +"And you will keep me advised of your whereabouts?" + +"I shall see that you get news of my death if I die, Shurtliff, and +if I do anything or become anything----" + +"The world will advise me of that, you mean?" + +"Perhaps--I don't know. One last injunction: you are not to tell +anyone the truth." + +"God forbid," said Shurtliff, "we have lied to preserve the honor and +fame of him we loved who lies here." + +"Don't render our perjuries of non-effect." + +"I will not, sir. I haven't found that paper. I guess it was +destroyed." + +"I presume so. And now, good-by." + +"Aren't you coming with me?" + +"I want to stay here a little while by myself." + +Shurtliff looked at the young man standing so strong and splendid by +the grave of his father. He put out his hand. He never condemned +himself so much before. He began to wonder if he had pursued the +right course. He began to question whether he who lay beneath the +sod would approve of his suppression of the truth; of the lie he had +told to save the father's fame and honor and to back up the assertion +of the son. No, on the whole, Shurtliff did not question that. He +knew that if it were possible the older man would rise from his grave +to assume the responsibility, to proclaim the younger man innocent. +Well, Shurtliff would save his beloved chief in spite of himself. + +He released the young man's hand, turned, and walked away. When he +reached the road, down which he must go, he stopped and faced about +again. Meade was standing where he had been. The old man took off +his hat in reverent farewell. + +Meade was not left alone. Beyond the hillside where his father had +been buried rose a clump of trees. Bushes grew at their feet. A +woman--should man be buried without woman's tears?--had stood +concealed there waiting. Helen Illingworth had wept over the +dreariness, the mournfulness of it all. She had hoped that Meade +might stay after the others went and now that he was alone she came +to him. She laid her hand upon his arm. He turned and looked at her. + +"I knew that you would be here," he said. + +"Did you see me?" + +"I felt your presence." + +"And would that you might feel it always by your side." + +The man looked down at the grave. + +"That," he said with a wave of his hand, "lies between us, that and +the ruined bridge." + +"Listen," said the woman. "You are wrecking your life for your +father's fame. A man has a right perhaps to do with his own life +what he will, but, when he loves a woman and when he has told her so +and she has given him her heart, did it ever occur to you that when +he wrecks his life he wrecks hers, and has he a right to wreck her +life for anyone else?" + +"What would you have me do?" asked Meade. "Unsay those words I said? +Put the blame on the dead, destroy in a breath that great record of +achievement, that vast reputation, the honor of a great name?" + +"Ah, but on this side is a woman's heart." + +"Oh, my God," said Meade, "this is more than I can bear." + +"I don't want to force you to do anything you don't want to do and +you are not in any mood to discuss these things," she said in quick +compassion. "Some day you will come back to me." + +"If I can ever hold my head up among men, look them straight in the +eye because I have enforced their respect, I shall come." + +"I shall wait." + +"The task before me daunts me. It is beyond human achievement." + +"Even for love like mine?" + +He stretched out his hands toward her over the grave. + +"I don't know," he cried. "I dare not hope." + +"With love like ours," she answered, "all things are possible." + +"I can't bind you. You must be free." + +"I shall be free, free to love you, free to work in my own way. No +loyalty"--she pointed down--"to him binds me. My loyalty is all to +you." + +"But you must consider my wishes." + +"No," said the woman boldly. "Have you considered mine?" + +"It is just," he said slowly, turning his head. "You are breaking my +heart, but I shall live and fight on for love and you." + +"God bless you." + +"You are going away?" she asked at last. + +"Yes." + +"Where?" + +"I don't know." + +"You will write to me?" + +He shook his head. + +"I must break with everything. I must give you your chance of +freedom." + +"Very well," said the woman. "Now hear me. You can't go so far on +this earth or hide yourself away so cunningly but that I can find you +and maybe follow you. And I will. Now, I must go. I left my car +down the road yonder. Will you go with me?" + +The man shook his head and knelt down before her suddenly and caught +her skirt in his grasp. His arms swept around her knees. She +yielded one hand to the pressure of his lips and laid the other upon +his head. + +"Go now," he whispered, "for God's sake. If I look at you I must +follow." + +She was great enough to heed his request, to understand his mood, and +as the old secretary had done she walked across the grass and down +the road. Her last long glimpse of him was of a bent figure bowed +over a new-made grave on a wind-swept hill. + + + + +III + +DAM + + +[Illustration: (sketch of dam area)] + + + +XVIII + +PICKET WIRE AND KICKING HORSE + +There are no more beautiful valleys anywhere than those cut by the +waters of primeval floods through the foothills of the great +snow-covered Rocky Mountains. The erosions and washings of untold +centuries have flung out in front of the granite ramparts a +succession of lower elevations like the bastions of a fortress. At +first scarcely to be distinguished from the main range in height and +ruggedness these ravelins and escarpments gradually decrease in +altitude and size until they turn into a series of more or less +disconnected, softly rounded hills, like outflung earthworks, finally +merging themselves by gradual slopes into the distant plains +overlooked by the great peaks of the mountains. + +The monotony of these pine-clad, wind-swept slopes is broken even in +the low hills by out-thrustings of stone, sometimes the hard igneous +rock, the granite of the mountains, more frequently the softer red +sandstone of a period later, yet ineffably old. These cliffs, +buttes, hills, and mesas have been weathered into strange and +fantastic shapes which diversify the landscape and add charm to the +country. + +The narrow cañons in which the snow-fed streams take their rise +gradually widen as the water follows its tortuous course down the +mountains through the subsiding ranges and out among the foothills to +the sandy, arid, windy plains beyond. At the entrance of one of the +loveliest of these broad and verdant valleys, a short distance above +its confluence with a narrower, more rugged ravine through the hills, +lay the thriving little town of Coronado. + +Some twenty miles back from the town at a place where the valley was +narrowed to a quarter of a mile, and separating it from the +paralleling ravine, rose a huge sandstone rock called Spanish Mesa. +Its top, some hundreds of feet higher than the tree-clad base of the +hills, was mainly level. From its high elevation the country could +be seen for many miles, mountains on one hand, plains on the other. +It stood like an island in a sea of verdure. Little spurs and ridges +ran from it. Toward the range it descended and contracted into a +narrow saddle, vulgarly known as a "Hog-back," where the granite of +the mountains was hidden under a deep covering of grass-grown earth, +which formed the only division between the valley and the gorge or +ravine, before the land, widening, rose into the next hill. + +And people came from miles away to see that interesting and curious +mesa, much more striking in its appearance than Baldwin's Knob, the +last foothill below it. Transcontinental travelers even broke +journey to visit it. The town prospered accordingly, especially as +it was admirably situated as a place of departure for hunters, +explorers, prospectors, and adventurers, who sought what they craved +in the wild hills. There were one or two good hotels for tourists, +unusually extensive general stores of the better class, where hunting +and prospecting parties could be outfitted, and the high-living, +extravagant cattle ranchers could get what they demanded. Besides +all these there were the modest homes of the lovers of the rough but +exhilarating and health-giving life of the Rocky Mountains. Of +course there were numerous saloons and gambling halls, and the town +was the haunt of cowboys, hunters, miners, Indians--the old frontier +with a few touches of civilization added! + +What was left of the river, which had made the valley--and during the +infrequent periods of rain too brief to be known as the rainy season, +it really lived up to the name of river--flowed merrily through the +town, when it flowed at all, under the name of Picket Wire. Singular +lack of ability to bestow a poetic nomenclature upon nature might at +first seem to be exhibited by the pioneer in this nondescript title. +Not so the truth. + +The pioneer was a poet unconsciously and filled with a spirit of +romance. No man adventures, unless under the pressure of some +inexorable necessity, into unknown lands as the pioneers did, without +imagination, romance; vision, if you will. Plain though he may +appear, the pioneer is the real dreamer of dreams. In the bleak and +arid present, rough, wild, and unpromising, he can see the future, +his the eyes of the seer and prophet. But when he tries to translate +what he feels and sees, even in the simplest ways by exercising the +privilege of Adam in naming the places he passes or stays by, he +seems to lack expression to fit his soul. + +For instance one of the most beautiful and romantic mountain streams, +ever fresh and clear, ever dashing madly through one of the most +stupendous cañons of Colorado, is known as the Big Thompson! Shades +of Poseidon! What has water ever done to be so called? Another +example is a great swelling peak, which strives to hold up its head +when people point out that it is called Mount Bill Williams! Bill it +might have stood, or Williams, but the combination! + +Well, there were romance and appositeness about the silver stream +that came dashing down from the snow-line, and in the springtime it +might fairly be said to dash, called the Picket Wire. Into that very +valley and at the base of that mesa in which the four centuries since +had effected so little change had come, in the following of Coronado, +for whom the town was named, a little party of Spanish explorers. +Why they ascended the valley over which the mesa stood sentry and why +they camped there rather than on the other side is not told in the +tradition which alone sets forth their fate. That does not enter +into this story. Suffice it, therefore, to say that a cloudburst in +the hills, a thing which seems to have been as old as the hills +themselves, wiped them out entirely. All unprepared, unblest, +unshriven, they were swept away. Battered bodies, torn garments +below the mesa told the story to those that hunted for tidings +afterward. The valley was a place of horror. The river of lost +souls, "_Rio de las Animas_," the Spaniards named it. + +Somehow or other the name stuck to it until a restless French +"coureur-de-bois," ranging far southward from the Great Lakes, came +upon it and its name. Promptly identifying lost soul with purgatory +he called it in turn "_La Rivière-de-la-Purgatoire_," the river of +purgatory, as if to say, "All hope abandon, ye who enter here." In +turn the name supplanted the other and abided. + +When the cowboy followed the pioneer, knowing neither French nor +Spanish, he onomatopoetized the last appellation into "_The Picket +Wire_," which was as near as he could come to the pronunciation of +Purgatoire. The Spanish passed, the French disappeared, the cowboy +and his like remained. Picket Wire it became and Picket Wire it will +remain to the end of the chapter. There is no natural descent from +lost souls to Picket Wire, though many lost souls may have been lost +because of picket wires, but that is how it came to be. And the +original disaster was not entirely forgotten either. It was +perpetuated in the butte which became "Spanish Mesa." France, alas, +coming between, had no memorial. + +Well, not being a purgatorial Styx, after a time the valley and the +ravine were both explored. The hills were tapped in fruitless search +for precious metals, which were not found, and then it was abandoned +to the hunter. When the railroad came the Picket Wire had been first +studied in the hope of finding a practicable way over the mountains, +but the ravine on the other side of the mesa had been found to offer +a shorter and more practicable route. And, by the way, this ravine, +taking its name from the little brook far down in its narrows, was +known as the "Kicking Horse"; so named, no one knew why, by the +Indians and freely translated by the white men. At any rate there +was at least some association between Picket Wire and Kicking Horse, +as the experienced know! + +So the railroad ran up the ravine and the Picket Wire was left still +virgin to the assaults of man. But the day came when it was +despoiled of its hitherto long standing, unravished innocence. Axes +were laid to the roots of the trees, drills were driven into the +rocks of the hills. Crashed down were the pines of the centuries, +crushed were paleocosmic rocks with new and strange fires. Scarred +and gashed and torn and ripped were the grass-covered hills. Huge +expanses of yellow clay were revealed beneath the richer deposits +whereon the sod had flourished. + +Shouts of men, cracking of whips, trampling of horses, groaning of +wheels, wordless but vocal protests of beasts of burden mingled with +the ringing of axes, the detonations of dynamite. The whistle of +engines and the roar of steam filled the valley. Under the direction +of engineers, a huge mound of earth arose across its narrowest part, +nearest a shoulder, or spur, of the mesa reaching westward. No more +should the silver Picket Wire flow unvexed on its way to the sea. It +was to be dammed. + +All that the huge, hot inferno of baked plain, where sage brush and +buffalo grass alone grow, needed to make it burgeon with wheat and +corn was water. The little Picket Wire, which had meandered and +sparkled and chattered on at its own sweet will was now to be held +until it filled a great lake-like reservoir in the hills back of the +new earth dam. Then through skillfully located irrigation ditches +the water was to be given to the millions of hungry little wheatlets +and cornlets, which would clamor for a drink. The fierce sun was no +longer to work its unthwarted will in burning up the prairie. + +The sage brush and buffalo grass were to go like the Indian before +the march of civilization. Nature is more refined than man. The +liquid that settled the Indian was accurately known as "firewater." +Incidentally, the same compound took a great many whites, not all the +baser sort either. But that which was to sweep away the greasy sage +brush and the coarse, rank grass, there being no longer any buffalo, +was the water of life which came down from heaven. At least the snow +caps of the range whence the Picket Wire flowed, and the great clouds +that once in a long time swept over the peaks and dropped their +burden on the bluff shoulders of the mountains, were as near heaven +as it is possible to get on this earth. + +With the promise of water on the plain beyond, Coronado sprang into +sudden recrudescence of newer and more vigorous life. In the +language of the West it "boomed." The railroad had been a forlorn +branch running up into the mountains and ending nowhere. Its first +builders had been daunted by difficulties and lack of money, but as +soon as the great dam was projected, which would open several hundred +thousand acres for cultivation and serve as an inspiration in its +practical results to other similar attempts, people came swarming +into the country buying up the land, the price for acreage steadily +mounting. The railroad accordingly found it worth while to take up +the long-abandoned construction work of mounting the range and +crossing it. Men suddenly observed that it was the shortest distance +between two cardinal points, and one of the great transcontinental +railways bought it and began improving it to replace its original +rather unsatisfactory line. + +The long wooden trestle which crossed the broad, sandy depression in +front of the town, the bed of the ancient river, through which the +Picket Wire and further down its affluent, the Kicking Horse, flowed +humbly and modestly, was being replaced by a great viaduct of steel. +Far up the gorge past the other side of the Spanish Mesa another +higher trestle had already been replaced by a splendid steel arch. A +siding had been built near the ravine, a path made to the foot of the +mesa, and arrangements were being made to run a local train up from +the town when all was completed to give the people an opportunity to +ride up the gorge and see the great pile of rock, on which enterprise +was already planning the desecration of a summer hotel, the blasphemy +of an amusement park! + + + + +XIX + +THE NEW RODMAN + +Up the valley of the Picket Wire one morning in early fall came a +young man roughly dressed like the average cow-puncher from the +ranches further north. He rode well, not with the carelessness and +security and mastery of the cowboy, yet with a certain attention to +detail and a niceness that betrayed him to the real rough-rider of +the range. Just as the clothes he wore, although they had been +bought at the same general store where the ordinary cattleman's +outfit was purchased, were worn in a little different way that again +betrayed him. One look into the face of the man, albeit his mustache +and beard hid the revealing outlines of mouth and chin, sufficed to +show that here was no ordinary cow-puncher. + +He rode boldly enough among the rocks of the trail and along the +rough road, which had been made by the wheels of the wagons and hoofs +of the horses. Yet a close observer would have seen a certain +hesitancy in his approach. He checked his horse from time to time +and looked back. A bold man determined on a course does not check +his horse and look back, yet no one who knew him could accuse this +horseman of timidity. There was about him some of the quiet +confidence begot of achievement, some of the power which knowledge +brings and which success emphasizes, yet there were uncertainty and +hesitation, too, as if all had not been plain sailing on his course. + +To be the resident engineer charged with the construction of a great +earth dam like that across the Picket Wire, requires knowledge of a +great many things beside the technicalities of the profession, chief +among them being a knowledge of men. As the newcomer threw his leg +over the saddle-horn, stepped lightly to the ground, dropping the +reins of his pony to the soil at the same time, Vandeventer, the +engineer in question, looked at him with approval. Some subtle +recognition of the man's quality came into his mind. Here was one +who seemed distinctly worth while, one who stood out above the +ordinary applicant for jobs who came in contact with Vandeventer, as +the big mesa rose above the foothill. However, the chief kept these +things to himself as he stood looking and waiting for the other man +to begin: + +"Are you the resident engineer?" asked the newcomer quietly, yet +there was a certain nervous note in his voice, which the alert and +observant engineer found himself wondering at, such a strain as might +come when a man is about to enter upon a course of action, to take a +strange or perilous step, such a little shiver in his speech as a +naked man might feel in his body before he plunged into the icy +waters of the wintry sea. + +"I am." + +"I'd like a job." + +"We have no use for cow-punchers on this dam." + +"I'm not exactly a cow-puncher, sir." + +"What are you?" + +"Look here," said the man, smiling a little, "I've been out in this +country long enough to learn that all that it is necessary to know +about a man is 'Will he make good?' Let us say that I am nothing and +let it go at that." + +"Out of nothing, nothing comes," laughed the engineer, genuinely +amused. + +Some men would have been angry, but Vandeventer rather enjoyed this. + +"I didn't say I was good for nothing," answered the other man, +smiling in turn, though he was evidently serious enough in his +application. + +"Well, what can you do? Are you an engineer?" + +"We'll pass over the last question, too, if you please. I think I +could carry a rod if I had a chance and there was a vacancy." + +"Umph," said Vandeventer, "you think you could?" + +"Yes, sir. Give me a trial." + +"All right, take that rod over there and go out on the edge of the +dam where that stake shows, and I'll take a sight on it." + +Now there are two ways--a hundred perhaps--of holding a rod; one +right way and all the others wrong. A newcomer invariably grasps it +tightly in his fist and jams it down, conceiving that the only way to +get it plumb and hold it steady. The experienced man strives to +balance it erect on its own base and holds it with the tips of his +fingers on either side in an upright position, swaying it very +slightly backward and forward. He does it unconsciously, too. + +Vandeventer had been standing by a level already set up when the +newcomer arrived and the rod was lying on the ground beside it. The +latter picked it up without a word, walked rapidly to the stake, +loosened the target, and balanced the rod upon the stake. As soon as +Vandeventer observed that his new seeker after work held the rod in +the right way, he did not trouble to take the sight. He threw his +head backward and raised his hand, beckoningly. + +"It so happens," he began, "that I can give you a job. The rodman +next in the line of promotion has been given the level. One of the +men went East last night. You can have the job, which is----" + +"I don't care anything about the details," said the man quickly and +gladly. "It's the work I want." + +"Well, you'll get what the rest do," said Vandeventer. "Now, as you +justly remarked, I have found that it is not considered polite out +here to inquire too closely into a man's antecedents and I have +learned to respect local customs, but we must have some name by which +to identify you, make out your pay check, and----" + +"Do you pay in checks?" + +"No, but you have to sign a check." + +"Well, call me Smith." + +Vandeventer threw back his head and laughed. The other man turned a +little red. The chief engineer observed the glint in his new +friend's eye. + +"I'm not exactly laughing at you," he explained, "but at the singular +lack of inventiveness of the American. We have at least thirty +Smiths out of two hundred men on our pay-roll, and it is a bit +confusing. Would you mind selecting some other name?" + +"If it's all the same to you," announced the newcomer amusedly--the +chief's laughter was infectious--"I'm agreeable to Jones, or Brown, +or----" + +"We have numbers of all of those, too." + +"Really," said the man hesitatingly, "I haven't given the subject any +thought." + +"What about some of your family names?" + +"That gives me an idea," said the newcomer, who decided to use his +mother's name, "you can call me Roberts." + +"And I suppose John for the prefix?" + +"John will do as well as any, I am sure." + +"We have about fifty Johns. Every Smith appears to have been born +John." + +"How did you arrange it?" asked the other with daring freedom, for a +rodman does not enter conversation on terms of equality with the +chief engineer. + +"I got a little pocket dictionary down at the town with a list of +names and I went through that list with the Smiths, dealing them out +in order. Well, that will do for your name," he said, making a +memorandum in the little book he pulled out of his flannel shirt +pocket. He turned to a man who had come up to the level. "Smith," +he said--"by the way this is Mr. Claude Smith, Mr. Roberts--here's +your new rodman. You know your job, Roberts. Get to work." + +And that is how Bertram Meade, a few months after the failure of the +great bridge, once again entered the ranks of engineers, beginning, +as was necessary and inevitable, very low down in the scale. + + + + +XX + +THE VALLEY OF DECISION + +Much water had run under the bridges of the world and incidentally +over the wreck of the International, since that bitter farewell +between Bertram Meade and Helen Illingworth over the grave of the old +engineer. Life had seemed to hold absolutely nothing for Meade as he +knelt by that low mound and watched the woman walk slowly away with +many a backward glance, with many a pause, obviously reluctant. He +realized that the lifting of a hand would have called her back. How +hard it was for him to remain quiet; and, finally, before she +disappeared and before she took her last look at him, to turn his +back resolutely as if to mark the termination of the situation. + +Father, fame, reputation, love, taken away at one and the same +moment! A weaker man might have sent life to follow. In the +troubled days after the fall of the bridge, his father's death, the +inquests, his testimony and evidence freely given, and that parting, +something like despair had filled the young engineer's heart. Life +held nothing. He debated with himself whether it would not be better +to end it than to live it. He envied his father his broken heart. +Singularly enough, the thing that made life of least value was the +thing that kept him from throwing it away--the woman. + +Striving to analyze the complex emotions that centered about his +losses he was forced to admit, although it seemed a sign of weakness, +that love of woman was greater than love of fame, that in the balance +one girl outweighed bridge and father. That the romance was ended +was what made life insupportable. Yet the faint, vague possibility +that it might be resumed if he could find some way to show his +worthiness was what made him cling to it. + +Of course he could have showed without much difficulty and beyond +peradventure at the inquest over Abbott and the investigation into +the cause of the failure of the bridge--unfortunate but too +obvious--that the frightful and fatal error in the design was not his +and that he had protested against the accepted plan, if only he had +found the letter addressed to his father. But that he would never do +and the letter had not been discovered anyway. He did not even +regret the bold falsehood he had uttered or the practical subornation +of perjury of which he had been guilty in drawing out and accepting +and emphasizing Shurtliff's testimony. + +There had been no inquest over his father's death. The autopsy had +showed clearly heart failure. He had not been compelled to go on the +witness stand and under oath as to that. Although, if that had been +demanded, he must needs have gone through with it. Indeed so prompt +and public had been his avowals of responsibility that he had not +been seriously questioned thereon. He had left nothing uncertain. +There was nothing concealed. + +He had inherited a competence from his father. It was indeed much +more than he or anyone had expected. He had realized enough ready +money from the sale of certain securities for his present needs. The +remainder he placed in Shurtliff's care and a few days after the +funeral, having settled everything possible, he took a train for the +West. + +The whole world was before him, and he was measurably familiar with +many portions of it. He could have buried himself in out-of-the-way +corners of far countries, in strange continents. These possibilities +did not attract him. He wanted to get away from, out of touch with, +the life he had led. He wished to go to some place where he could be +practically alone, where he could have time to recover his poise, to +think things out, to plan his future, to try to devise a means for +rehabilitation, if it were possible. He could do that just as well, +perhaps better, in America than in any place else. And there was +another reason that held him to his native land. He would still +tread the same soil, breathe the same air, with the woman. He did +not desire to put seas between them. + +He swore to himself that the freedom he had offered her, that he had +indeed forced upon her unwilling and rejecting it, should be no empty +thing so far as he was concerned. He would leave her absolutely +untrammeled. He would not write to her or communicate with her in +any way. He would not even seek to hear about her and of course as +she would not know whither he had gone or where he was she could not +communicate with him. The silence that had fallen between them +should not be broken even forever unless and until---- Ah, yes, he +could not see any way to complete that "unless and until" at first, +but perhaps after a while he might. + +He knew exactly where he would go. Dick Winters, another classmate +and devoted friend at Cambridge, had gone out West shortly after +graduation. He had a big cattle ranch miles from a railroad in a +young southwestern state. Winters, like the other member of the +youthful triumvirate, Rodney, was a bachelor. He could be absolutely +depended upon. He had often begged Meade to visit him. The engineer +would do it now. He knew Winters would respect his moods, that he +would let him severely alone, that he could get on a horse and ride +into the hills and do what he pleased, think out his thoughts +undisturbed. + +To Winters, therefore, he had gone. He had an idea that his future +would be outside of engineering. Indeed he had put all thought of +his chosen profession out of his mind and heart, at least so he +fancied. Yet, spending an idle forenoon in Chicago waiting for the +departure of the western train, he found himself irresistibly drawn +to the great steel-framed structures, the sky-scrapers rising gaunt +and rigid above the other buildings of the city. He remembered that +Chicago was the home of the tall building, that in it the first great +constructions that were to make American engineering famous had +astonished the world, and he took deep interest in comparing the +older buildings with the newer. Again the train was delayed and held +up for half an hour just as it reached the Mississippi River. He +left his seat in the dining-car, his dinner uneaten on the table, to +go out and inspect the bridge during the half-hour that the "Limited" +lay idle. The next day some enormous irrigation works in western +Nebraska so engrossed his attention and aroused his interest that in +spite of himself he stopped over between trains to see them. And +these actions were typical. + +Yet after every one of these excursions back into his own field, his +conscience smote him. Was he never to get away from this +engineering? Was there nothing else for him but brick and stone, +steel and concrete, designs and plans and undertaking and +accomplishment in the world? Because it was the thing that he must +abandon and put out of his mind, engineering seemed the only thing he +cared for. There would be no engineering on that ranch on the slopes +of the range. He could settle the question there. + +Winters was glad to see him. He and Rodney and Meade had been the +warmest of friends. Of course Meade could not tell Rodney the truth +on account of his newspaper connections, but he decided finally that +he could and would tell Winters under assurance of absolute secrecy. +For one thing the big cattleman had bluntly refused to credit his +friend's first statements; and, when he at last heard the truth, he +blamed him roundly while he appreciated fully the nobleness of his +self-sacrifice. The clear-headed, practical Winters put it this way: +Meade was capable of doing splendid service to humanity as an +engineer and bade fair to be even greater than his father, yet for +the sake of the fame of a dead man, to whom after all it would matter +little, he had thrown away that splendid opportunity! + +This was a new thought to Meade and a disturbing one. Unfortunately, +as even Winters was forced to acknowledge, the suggestion came too +late. The course had been entered upon. It would be cowardly to try +to change it now. Indeed it would have been impossible with the +disappearance of the written protests and notes. Even if Shurtliff +had been willing, no one would have believed a delayed retraction and +explanation, and Shurtliff would not have been willing Meade well +knew. Neither for that matter was Meade himself. He was glad that +the affair had been settled and would not change it now even though +Winters' rough-and-ready presentation of the situation disquieted him. + +Winters, who saw how greatly overwrought and unstrung his friend was, +contented himself with the assertion. He did not press the point or +argue it with him. He rested quietly confident that matters would +right themselves some way in the long run. He treated Meade exactly +right. He left him to his own devices. He did not force his company +upon him. Sometimes the engineer would mount a horse---and all at +the ranch were at his disposal--and would ride away into the woods +and mountains with a camping outfit. Sometimes he would be gone for +several days, coming back white and haggard and exhausted but victor +in some hard battle fought out alone. + +Before Meade had left New York he had deposited a sufficient sum of +money with one of the leading florists there and on every Saturday a +box of the rarest and most beautiful flowers was delivered namelessly +to Helen Illingworth. She knew the florist from whom they came but +never questioned him. She divined that they came from Meade in the +absence of any card. She did not make the slightest effort, however, +to confirm that conclusion or find out how or why they were sent so +regularly. She just took the flowers to her heart, wept over them, +kissed them, and loved them; and every time they came she held her +head higher. + +One day there came to the ranch a letter to Winters from Rodney, full +of friendly chat and pleasant reminiscence. + +"Meade has disappeared absolutely," wrote Rodney in closing. "Even +Miss Illingworth, to whom he was reported engaged and upon whom I +have called occasionally, says she does not know his whereabouts, +although she confided to me, knowing my friendship for him, that a +New York florist sends her flowers every week, which she knows could +come only from him. Of course you saw in the papers his connection +with the tragedy and failure of the International? I happened to be +the man to whom he made the admission of the error in his +calculations. Although his frank statement was corroborated by that +of the older Meade's private secretary, I have never been able to +believe it, neither does Miss Illingworth. I know Bert, and so does +she. We can't accept even his own testimony. We have been working +together to establish the truth, but with very faint prospects of +success so far. There's some tremendous mystery about it. I have +thought that maybe Meade might have come to you. If he has show him +this letter and beg him to tell us the truth at any rate." + +Winters passed the letter over to Meade without comment. The +engineer read it with passionate eagerness. He was hungry for any +news of Helen Illingworth. The flowers were being received. She had +divined whence they came. That was something. And Rodney was +calling upon her. A sharp pang of jealousy shot through him at that, +although he knew there was no reason. Dear old Rodney! He could see +his grave face, his disapproving manner, his air of unbelief, as he +had taken down Meade's words in the office that tragic day. + +Of course, Helen Illingworth was not a recluse as he was. She +mingled in society. She took up life with its demands. She entered +into its pleasures and fulfilled its duties. He was jealous of +everyone who might come in contact with her, but he knew the names of +none except Rodney. + +And they were suspicious of his avowal! That was balm to his soul. +Of course Helen Illingworth was suspicious, but why should Rodney +doubt his assumption of the blame? And they were working to +establish his innocence. The thought disquieted him lest they should +discover the truth in some way. And it gave him joy also. They +would work despite any remonstrance from him. He thought of that +protest to his father always with uneasiness. If he could only have +found it and destroyed it himself he would have been happier. Could +it be in existence somewhere? Would it turn up? Would they unearth +it? Well, he had done his best for his father, yet he was glad those +two disbelieved and were working for him. + +Meade had been the most brilliant, Winters the most indifferent, +Rodney the most persevering, of the trio at college. He remembered +that well. His first thought was to forbid Rodney to do anything +further, although how far his friend would respect his wishes he +could not tell. Anyway, he did not have to decide that matter, +because he could not say a word to him. To have allowed Winters to +write would have betrayed his whereabouts. He was living with +Winters under an assumed name of course. He had had his hair cut +differently and had grown a beard and mustache. He thought it would +have taken a keen eye indeed to have recognized him with these +changes. + +In the end he handed the letter back to Winters, only charging him +that if he wrote to Rodney he must not betray the fact that Meade was +with him. He had plenty of time to think over the situation. He +decided finally that so long as he had been born an engineer and +trained and educated as an engineer and had worked as an engineer +that an engineer he would have to be until the end of the chapter. +He would go out and seek work, not such work as his ability and +experience and education had entitled him to undertake, but under +some assumed name he would begin at the very beginning, at the foot +of the ladder as a rodman, if he could; and then he would work on +quietly, faithfully, obscurely, praying for his chance. If it came +he would strive to be equal to the opportunity; if it did not at +least he would be engaged in honest work in an honest way. + +It was a very humble programme, not at all promising or heroic or +romantic, just a beginning. He would work on and wait. They say +that all things come to him who waits. That is only half true. Some +things come to him who waits sometimes. That is more nearly +accurate. Well, he could think of no better plan. So he bade +Winters good-by, swearing him again to secrecy until he should lift +the ban against speech, and rode away. When he got to the little +village on the Picket Wire below the dam he stopped a long time +gazing at the long bridge, or viaduct, of steel that was replacing +the old wooden trestle and carrying the railroad from the hills to +the eastward over the river. + +It was not such an undertaking as the lost International, still it +was interesting engineering construction. It was work that would be +intensely congenial, to which he was drawn almost irresistibly, yet +he managed to hold himself aloof. The Martlet people were building +this steel bridge and they had just finished the arch up under the +mesa. A well-known construction company was building the great earth +dam across the Picket Wire in the valley. + +Meade's engineering life had been spent mainly out of the United +States. He had never been connected with the Martlet and its +employees until he had been associated with his father on the +International. He could have gone among them with little danger of +immediate discovery, since most of the men he had known had gone down +with the bridge, but he decided not to do so. The work on the dam +would be simpler and he would have less opportunity to betray himself +and it would give him more chance to work up in a plausible and +reasonable way. Besides, if Colonel Illingworth came on to inspect +his bridge, as he would probably do, Meade would have to leave before +his arrival. The dam would be safer. No one would ever think of +looking for him there. And no one would ever recognize in the +rough-bearded workman the clear-cut, smooth-faced young engineer of +other days. + +The dam was twenty miles up the valley. Yes, he would be less apt to +be observed working there than on the bridge. Yet as he recalled +that private car and that it might come there, he realized that she +might be on it. His heart leaped even as it had leaped at the sight +of the viaduct then building, as it had quivered to the familiar +rat-tat-tat of the pneumatic riveters and the clang and the clash of +the structural steel. But what was the use? He would not dare trust +himself to look at her even from a distance. No, it was the dam that +best suited his purpose, so he turned away from the bridge and rode +up the valley. There he was fortunate in falling into a position, as +has been set forth. + + + + +XXI + +MARSHALING THE EVIDENCE + +For all her sweetness and light, Helen Illingworth was dowered with +intense energy and a powerful will. What she began she finished, and +she was not deterred from beginning things by fears of consequences. +When she had so powerful an incentive as the rehabilitation of her +lover, the resumption of their engagement, and their prospective +marriage there was nothing that could stop her. She supplemented a +man's analytical powers with a woman's intuition in her work. + +She was convinced that Meade had not told the truth in that famous +declaration in his father's office. She respected him for his desire +to shield his father's name and fame even at the expense of his +veracity, albeit she would not have been a woman if she had not +resented the fact that in so doing he had sacrificed her happiness as +well as his own. Indeed, perhaps, she could not have borne that +separation and delay had it not been for the consciousness that in +any event her father's hatred of the very name of Meade would have +forced her to choose between the two men, and womanlike, she shrank +from the necessity of such a decision. Time would be her ally. She +was the more content to wait, therefore. + +The question whether Meade, Junior, was the more responsible or even +responsible at all was more or less academic to Illingworth. He +would have had nothing further to do with either of them if both were +living, and certainly not with the younger survivor. Really from the +point of view of wealth and station a marriage between his daughter +and Meade might have been considered a condescension on her part, in +her father's eyes at least. Nothing could have justified such an +alliance from a worldly standpoint but Meade's continued and +unequivocal success. + +Rightly had the old man made the match dependent upon the successful +completion of the bridge. He congratulated himself on that wise +decision. He tried to believe that if it had come to a final choice +the daughter, in spite of the fact that such is the habit of women in +the experience of life, would not have given up age and her father +for youth and her lover. Indeed she was too genuinely devoted to her +father to do that except as a last resort. She cherished the hope +first, that Meade could re-establish himself--she had too sweeping a +confidence in his character and capacity to doubt that--and second, +that it could be shown that he had not been responsible for the +failure of the bridge. She was more and more convinced that his +assumption of the blame had been dictated by the highest of motives +and instead of being a fit subject for censure and condemnation he +merited admiration and applause. She hoped with her woman's wit to +prove this eventually, perhaps in spite of her lover, and to this end +she applied herself assiduously to solve the problem. + +To her, at her request, came Rodney. Now the reporters had dealt +very gently with Helen Illingworth. They had made no announcement of +the engagement or of its breaking at her father's earnest request. +There was no necessity of bringing her into the bridge story, +although it would have added a dramatic touch to their narratives. +They had held a brief conference before they separated and at +Rodney's suggestion they had agreed to leave her out of it. There +was enough without her. None of the yellow journals had suspected +the broken engagement since it had never been announced, and the +loyal young fellows kept their compact religiously as they had +cheerfully promised themselves they would do. + +Not that Helen was in the least ashamed of the engagement. Her +inclination when she found it had not been referred to in any of the +reports or discussions of the catastrophe had been to avow it. But +upon reflection she saw it would only have caused further talk, it +would have annoyed her father beyond expression, it would not have +helped Meade any, and it might hamper her in her work. She realized +that she had Rodney to thank for this omission and after she had time +to collect herself she asked him to call upon her. He was very glad +to come. + +"I sent for you, Mr. Rodney, on account of Mr. Bertram Meade," she +began, after thanking him for his courtesy toward her the day the +older Meade died and thereafter. + +"I divined as much, Miss Illingworth." + +"I want you to help me." + +"I shall be delighted to do so for three reasons." + +"And those are?" + +"First, for your own sake. I know, you will pardon me, how deeply +interested you are in Meade's rehabilitation. Second, because I +believe that he was not telling the truth, that he is shielding his +father. Third, because he was my dearest friend at college. We were +classmates and his happiness and future are as dear to me as my own." + +"Mr. Rodney," returned the woman, flushing a little, "you know of +course that we were engaged. You heard me say it. I know that it +was due to you that the engagement was kept out of the papers. +Personally, I should have proclaimed it from the house-tops but for +my father. He considers it broken." + +"And you? Forgive me, Miss Illingworth!" + +"It is as binding upon me as it ever was, although Mr. Meade gave me +complete and entire release before he went away." + +"I suppose so. That would be like him." + +"He said he would not link my life and its possibilities with a +wrecked career like his and, although I told him frankly that nothing +could be worse than separation, he persisted and----" + +"I understand," said Rodney gravely. "Indeed as a man of honor he +could do no less." + +"You are all alike," said the woman a little bitterly. "Your notions +are supreme. You may break hearts, you may ruin lives, you may +sacrifice love and your best friend so long as you preserve those +notions of honor intact." + +"And yet it is just because we preserve those ideas of honor, which +you call our notions, that your heart breaks in parting. If we +weren't honorable men you wouldn't care for us at all." + +"Yes, I suppose that's it. Well, I do care very much, as you +understand. I may as well be frank with you. My father, of course, +is bitterly antagonistic to Mr. Meade. He won't even allow his name +to be mentioned." + +"One can hardly blame him for that, Miss Illingworth. The failure of +the bridge seriously embarrassed the Martlet Bridge Company, and it +is a great handicap for them to overcome in seeking any further +contracts." + +"I know it was only my father's private fortune and that of all the +others, that kept the works from going under." + +"Everybody knows that and honors your father and his associates for +their sacrifices." + +"But I did not summon you here to discuss the affairs of the Martlet +Bridge Company," said Helen, "interesting though they may be, but to +see if by working together there was not some way by which we could +prove that Bertram Meade has assumed the blame to save the honor and +fame of his father." + +"You believe that, Miss Illingworth?" + +"I am sure of it." + +"So am I," said Rodney quickly. + +"Thank God," cried the girl a little hysterically, surprised and +almost swept off her feet by this prompt avowal by one who, though +young, was already an authority in the literature of engineering. +"Why do you say that? What evidence have you?" + +"Unfortunately," answered Rodney, "I haven't any tangible evidence +whatever, but I know Bert Meade as few people know him, Miss +Illingworth, perhaps not even you," he went on, in spite of her +unspoken, but vigorous protest at that last statement, as she shook +her head and smiled at him. "And there are several little +circumstances that make me feel that he could not have been to blame. +Have you any ground for your conviction?" + +"Probably even less than you have and yet I, too, know him. You were +four years at college with him, I was five minutes in his arms," she +said boldly, "on the bridge. He saved my life there. I have never +told anyone before." Rapidly she narrated the incident. "This is +what made him speak, but this is beside the point and does not +interest you," she concluded graphically. + +"On the contrary it interests me intensely. It adds the least touch +of romance to the tragedy. If I were a writer of fiction instead of +handling the dry details of engineering operations, what an +opportunity is here presented!" + +"But you will respect my confidence?" + +"Absolutely, my dear young lady. You may speak with perfect +assurance." + +Helen Illingworth looked into the plain, homely, but strong, reliable +face of the man and dismissed any thought of reserve from her mind. + +"Let us place," she began, "the little circumstances upon which our +intuitions are based, if intuitions are ever based on anything +tangible, together. Perhaps the sum of them may yield something." + +"The suggestion is admirable," assented Rodney, "and as I knew him +first and longest I will begin. Perhaps it would be well, too, to +take down our evidence and then transcribe the notes so that we may +consider them at leisure, getting an eye view as well as an ear view +of them." + +"That will be an admirable plan, but how?" asked the girl eagerly. + +"I happen to have mastered shorthand and I can take down my words and +yours." + +He drew out a note-book, pad, and pencil from his pocket and sat down +at the nearest table. + +"Now, in the first place," he began, writing and speaking at the same +time--it was a little difficult at first being so unusual, but as he +spoke slowly and thoughtfully he managed it--"point one is Meade's +absolutely unbounded devotion to his father. The old man was not +always right. His theories and propositions were arguable and some +were controverted. The boy was as clear as a bell on most things, +but I recall that he would maintain his father's propositions +tenaciously, determinedly, long after everybody, perhaps even the old +man himself, had been convinced of their fallacy. Engineering is in +Meade's blood. He is the fifth of his family to graduate at Harvard +and three of his forbears were engineers, his grandfather noted and +his father world-famous. He fairly idolized his father. The +affection between them was delightful. The king could do no wrong. +Meade was quick-tempered and not very receptive to criticism, but he +would take the severest stricture from the old man without a murmur." + +"Here we have," said the woman, who had listened with strained +attention, "an early devotion to a person and an unbounded respect +for his attainments." + +"Exactly." + +"Go on." + +"The next point is, Meade was inordinately proud of his family +reputation, especially in the engineering field. Of the two of the +line who were not engineers, one was a soldier and a distinguished +one, but his career had little interest for Meade. I have heard him +say that there had been a steady, upward movement in his family, that +had reached its culmination in his father. He hoped to be a good, +useful engineer, but he never dreamed of going any higher or even +approaching the altitude of the other man." + +"It was a sort of fetish with him, then, wasn't it?" asked the woman +as Rodney stopped again. + +"You have hit it exactly. His love for the man, his admiration for +the engineer, which sometimes blinded him, and his pride in his +father's career as typifying his family, were unbounded." + +"You have established a motive for any sacrifice: love, respect, +pride!" + +"That's the way it presents itself to me, Miss Illingworth. I know +thoroughly the quixotic, impulsive, self-sacrificing nature of the +man. I know that he would have done anything on earth to save his +father, even at the sacrifice of his own career, and since I have +seen you I can realize how powerful these motives must have been." + +Rodney said this quite simply, as if it were a matter of course, +rather than a compliment, and bluntly as he might have said it to a +friend and comrade, and Helen Illingworth understood and was grateful. + +"It has been a grief to me that I weighed so little in comparison," +she said simply. + +"I shouldn't put it that way exactly," observed Rodney carefully. +"You see even if it could be shown that it was the old man's fault +entirely the young one would still have to share some of the blame." + +"You mean he should have foreseen it and pointed it out?" + +"Yes." + +"I think he did." + +"I think so, too, but if he did foresee it and point it out, he +should not have allowed the older man to overawe him or force him to +accept what he believed to be structurally unsound. And Meade +realized that he was practically done for when he gave you up, unless +he wished you to share his disgrace, and in the face of every +conceivable opposition a woman would have to meet. I don't know +whether he reasoned it out exactly in this way. I don't think he had +time to argue the case, the shock was so swift and sudden, but as +soon as he did see the situation he discovered that you were lost +anyway, except of the charity of your affection, which he could not +accept, and that he could save his father. This may all be the +wildest speculation, but this is the way it presents itself to me." + +"And to me," said Helen, "but before we go any further, let me say I +should rather be his wife, shamed, humiliated, heartbroken, +blameworthy though he may be, than enjoy any other fate or fortune." + +"If anyone did love Meade for himself that is the kind of affection +his qualities merit and would evoke in the mind of a discerning +woman." + +"Thank you. Will you go on, now?" + +"Of course you know that what we have said is not evidence. It is +all assumption, perhaps presumption." + +"It's as true as gospel," said the girl earnestly. + +"To you and to me, yes. Well," he continued, "I remember that Meade +and I were talking just before he went to Burma three years ago about +a new book by a German named Schmidt-Chemnitz, in which certain +methods of calculations were proposed for the design of lacings. +They were empiric, of course, because there haven't been enough +experiments on big members like those in the International from which +to deduce the true laws. You know it was the lacings of one of the +compression members of the cantilever that gave way." + +"Wait a minute," said Helen. + +She went to her desk, opened a drawer, extracted therefrom a paper. + +"Look at this," she said. She put her finger on the little sketch +Abbott and Curtiss had discussed on the observation platform of the +private car. "These are lacings, aren't they?" + +"Yes," said Rodney, studying the sketch with deep interest. "Where +did you get this?" + +"Presently," said Miss Illingworth. "Go on with your account." + +"Well, Meade and I got into a hot discussion over some of +Schmidt-Chemnitz's formulas. I maintained that they were wrong. He +took the opposite view. He was right. He was so interested in the +matter that after we separated he wrote me a letter about it, adding +some new arguments to re-enforce his contention. The other day I +made a careful search among my papers and by happy chance I found the +letter. I was half-convinced by his reasoning then, although the +matter was dropped. I am altogether convinced now. His argument is +very clear. I have examined since then the plan and sketches for +that bridge. The calculations did not agree with those of +Schmidt-Chemnitz. His methods were not used. Meade could not have +forgotten the matter. I am morally certain that he made a protest to +his father, probably in writing, then allowed himself to be persuaded +by his father's reasoning. As a matter of fact, I suppose that +Bertram Meade, Senior, was a greater authority on steel bridge +designing than even Schmidt-Chemnitz. Well, sometimes, the smaller +man is right. We know now and Bertram Meade, Senior, would admit it +if he were alive, that Schmidt-Chemnitz was right, and we can make a +good guess that young Meade did not let it pass without a protest." + +"Mr. Rodney, it's wonderful." + +"Well, that's not all. There was not a little bit of hesitation in +Meade's assumption of the blame, not a person who heard it doubted it +apparently. I have sounded them all carefully, except myself." + +"And me." + +"It was a splendid piece of dramatic acting,--one hates to call such +a sacrifice by such a name--but that is what it was." + +"My thought exactly," said the woman. "Is that all?" + +"Not yet. I was the first man to see the older Meade except his son +and Shurtliff." + +"Oh, Shurtliff!" + +"We'll come to him presently. It was obvious that the older Meade +had been writing. I don't know whether the others noticed it, but it +is my business to take in even inconsiderable details. The pen was +still between his fingers. His hand was constricted and the pen had +not dropped out, in fact I myself took it out and laid it on the +desk." + +"His last conscious act was to write something, therefore?" + +"Yes, for confirmation I ascertained that there were ink-stains on +his fingers." + +"What did he write and to whom?" + +"I don't know. I can only guess." + +"What do you guess?" + +"The assumption of entire responsibility and the exculpation of his +son, probably to some paper." + +"From the same motives that prompted Bert?" + +"No, because it was true. But that is only an assumption, although +not altogether without further evidence." + +"And what is that?" asked the woman eagerly. + +She had sat down opposite Rodney at the table and was leaning toward +him. Her color came and went, her breathing was rapid and strained +under the wild beating of her heart. + +"The blotter on the desk. I examined it at my leisure. It had been +used some time. I went over it with a magnifying glass. Meade, +Senior, had evidently written a letter. I found the words 'fault is +mine.' I have the blotter in my desk. The word 'fault' is barely +decipherable, 'is' can be made out with difficulty, but 'mine' is +quite plain. I am familiar with the older Meade's handwriting, and +though this is weaker and feebler and more irregular than was his +custom--ordinarily he wrote a bold, free hand--this is unmistakably +his. Of course no one can say that he wrote any letter. This is +piling assumption upon assumption and, furthermore, there is no +evidence of any signature having been written beneath it." + +"But there are signatures on the blotter?" + +"Yes, one in particular, very clear." + +"It might have been added later." + +"Of course." + +"Is that all?" + +"There is one more bit of evidence." + +"What's that?" + +"The sheet of paper on which the design computations for the +compression chord members appear was not with the other plans and +tracings of the bridge." + +"How do you know?" + +"These plans were taken over by the Martlet Company after Meade's +death and Mr. Curtiss and I examined them. We found that sheet +missing." + +"It's wonderful!" cried the girl, her eyes shining. "I was convinced +before, but, if I had not been, you would have persuaded me beyond a +doubt." + +"I have persuaded myself, too," said Rodney. "But there is not a +single thing here that would justify any publicity even if we were +prepared to go against Meade's obvious desire. As I say, it is all +assumption. No one could prove it." + +"You are wrong," said the girl. "One person can prove it." + +"Who is that?" + +"Shurtliff." + +"I wondered if that would occur to you." + +"Of course. You think that Meade, Senior, wrote a letter assuming +the blame because it was his. I have no doubt in the world now that +Bertram Meade had made his protest in writing. Perhaps he indorsed +it on the missing sheet," continued the woman, making bold and +brilliant guesses. "Or maybe he wrote a letter that was attached to +the sheet that we lack, and Mr. Meade got it out of the safe and +wrote his letter and attached it with Bertram's protest to the +missing drawing and gave them to Shurtliff and told him to take them +to the papers. You know Shurtliff said that Meade declared he would +assume the blame and he told the reporters so. Shurtliff has, or he +knows who has, the missing paper." + +"But what motive would the secretary have for such concealment?" + +"He idolized the older Meade. Mr. Curtiss told me about him. A +failure himself when he was a young man, Mr. Meade had faith in him +and offered to promote his engineering efforts, but the man preferred +to attach himself, personally, to Mr. Meade and so he became his +private secretary. By his own showing he had been with the dead man +on that afternoon. He has the papers." + +The woman rose to her feet as she spoke with fine conviction. + +"I believe you are right," said Rodney, leaning back in his chair and +staring at her through his glasses. "If we can only make him +speak----': + +"We can." + +"How?" + +"I don't know, but that shall be my task." + +"But where is he?" + +"Working for my father." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I mean that I suspected him from the first, and as there was an +opening for a private confidential man, who understood engineering--a +vacancy made by the promotion of my father's private secretary--I +prevailed upon him to give the position to Shurtliff. Father hates +the name of Meade, but he worships efficiency and he knows that +Shurtliff is the very incarnation of the particular kind of ability +that he desires, so he is with my father constantly and I have him +always under my eye. When we go away in the car, he goes along." + +"What are you going to do?" + +"Win his confidence, his affection if I can, appeal to him, and----" + +"By Jove," said Rodney, "I believe you can do it. You can't drive +that old man." + +"I know it," said the woman. + +"You haven't told him that you thought it was his fault?" + +"No. Now, to return to that picture and that plan. I can remember +the day Bert saw it first." + +"When was it?" + +"The morning after the night I nearly fell off the bridge." + +"Yes?" + +"It was on the table on the observation platform where the men had +left it. I had gone to the door to tell the attendant that Mr. Meade +would breakfast with us; when I came back he was staring at it like +one possessed. We had some conversation about it. I remember every +word." She repeated it verbatim. "It was not so much what he said, +but the way he looked; strained, one might say, alarmed. I puzzled +over it a good deal and as we had"--she stopped and smiled--"we had +other things to think of, I didn't dwell upon it until afterward. +Mr. Rodney, he knew that lacing was weak. There was relief in his +look and voice when he found that Curtiss and Abbott were both +satisfied. If he knew it was weak, or if he thought it might be, he +is the kind of man who would have said so. If we can find that +missing sheet, if we can make Shurtliff tell, we can establish his +innocence beyond peradventure." + +"We certainly can and, if we do, it will be through you." + +"Don't forget your own part, Mr. Rodney." + +"I couldn't do anything with a man like Shurtliff. You can. You can +win his devotion, you can let him see how much the reinstatement of +Bert Meade in honor again means to you. You can do it." + +"Meanwhile you will help me, won't you?" + +"In any way, in every way. Do you know where he has gone?" + +"I haven't the slightest idea. He might be in Africa, or South +America, or out West, or up North. Do you see those flowers?"--she +pointed to a great bunch of American Beauty roses, which had been +forced for her apparently, and which she had received on that very +day--"Dards, you know the Madison Avenue florist, sends me a box of +magnificent blossoms, roses, violets, orchids, always different, +every week. They speak to me of him." + +"Have you ever tried to trace them?" + +"No. I know whence they come and that is all. We will hear from him +some day, somewhere, somehow. Meanwhile, we will work, work, work!" + +"Miss Illingworth," said Rodney, rising, "I will transcribe this +conversation and send you a copy. We will study it. Meanwhile if +anything occurs to me I will communicate with you." + +"And I with you." + +"And you will allow me to say before I go that since I have had this +conversation with you I do not see how even love for his father or +his family name would have led Meade to do it." + +"Don't say anything against him," said Helen Illingworth quickly. +"He was mad with anxiety, shame, regret. Whatever he did I love him +just the same." + + + + +XXII + +WORKING UP + +The autumn went by as a dream. Winter, warm and mild in that far +southern clime, was at hand before Meade realized it. An ordinary +engineer of half the ability of Bertram Meade so suddenly reduced to +the ranks would have chafed against the position of subordination and +would have resented the humble duties with which he was charged. But +Meade was happy to be following, even in this extremely modest way, +the profession that he loved. And he did his unimportant work with +zeal and care. It is not much to say, but he was the most efficient +of the junior engineering force on the dam. That compensated for +another not quite so admirable fact. He did not mingle with the men. +They thought him reserved and unfriendly and but for his unfailing +courtesy to everybody and his obvious expertness he would perhaps +have become unpopular. Of course, many of the men were far beneath +him socially and intellectually, but there was a spirit of democracy +among the workers on the dam. Except for the foreigners and others +of the manual laborers, rank and station were more or less laid aside +after hours. Even Vandeventer himself put on no airs. + +It was not because Meade was unsocial that he kept to himself, not at +all. From his own galvanized iron quarters, he used to stare +longingly at the men grouped around the big camp fires, for the +nights were growing chill, smoking and laughing, exchanging +experiences and telling stories. Nothing would have pleased him +better than to have joined in and he could have told stories and +related experiences that would have been unique even in that gay +crowd of young adventurers. But he did not dare. He feared to +betray himself. What he wanted above everything was to preserve his +incognito. It would be fatal to his chances of ever working up to +anything worth while if they found out who he was. + +And he had a tremendous pride to sustain him. They respected him +now. As a matter of fact they put his withdrawal of himself down to +vagaries of temperament or causes they could not imagine and they +grew rather to like him even as they left him alone. And a few of +the men of the humbler sort to whom he had been kind on occasion and +helpful, were stoutly devoted to him. Little indications gave him +the feeling that Vandeventer had his eye on him and that if it were +possible he would get a chance. He was not moody or morose. He was +just afraid, afraid he would be found out, questioned, pitied. So +when the others gathered together in jolly fellowship after working +hours Meade, perforce, wandered away alone. + +The idleness of an aimless life did not appeal to him even in his +off-duty periods. Doing nothing had no attraction. He could not get +relief that way. Even rambling alone about the hills would not +serve. So quick and active a man, so vigorous and buoyant a spirit, +so strong a body and mind were not calculated for aimless wandering. + +Meade was a very accomplished engineer indeed. There was no branch +of the art about which he did not know a little, although hydraulics +and structural steel were the things that most appealed to him. He +got relief in the duality of his affections for these branches of his +profession. Neither one of them ever palled on him because he did +not work monotonously at either of them. He had a natural instinct +for topography, and instead of purposelessly strolling about the +country, he made a careful inspection of the valley which was to be +converted into a huge reservoir by the dam. + +The dam itself was, perhaps, an eighth of a mile long at the bottom +and, as it touched the receding hill on one side and the spur of +Spanish Mesa on the other at the top, it there exceeded that basic +extent considerably, perhaps twice. It was a huge mound of earth +with a clay core extending from side to side at the narrowest part of +the valley, near the south end of Spanish Mesa and a few miles above +Baldwin's Knob, the highest but by no means the most picturesque hill +or mesa in the valley of the Picket Wire. When completed the dam +would be one hundred and twenty-five feet high above the old river +bed with a roadway twenty feet broad on the top of it. + +The engineers had fortunately found a long flat space of ground, like +a meadow, just at the narrows and the huge mound of earth they had +built upon it fell away in a long slope toward the lower valley. +Below the dam and on the low ground between the mesa and Baldwin's +Knob the camp, with its galvanized iron shops, bunk houses, dining +halls, kitchens, and officers' quarters, had been erected. The +configuration of the ground was such that, although it was unusual to +put them there, convenience had rendered it desirable in this case. + +The hills were covered with splendid pines, except where they had +been cut to pieces by the diggers and teamsters to furnish the clay +for the work. It was intended to complete the dam before the early +spring of next year, which was, if any time in the country could be +so characterized, the rainy season. Of course, just as soon as the +dam had begun to rise, the flow of the Picket Wire below it had been +stopped, except when an occasional freshet had been allowed to pass +the under-sluice. It was known that the run-off of the river in the +rainy season of some years was so small as scarcely to fill the +reservoir, and it had been decided to store all the flow of the +autumn and winter so that even if the spring rainy season were +deficient the beginning of the next summer would find the reservoir +full and the new irrigation system could commence operations +successfully. + +Vandeventer, like the lost Abbott of the International, was also a +driver, who spared neither his men nor himself. The work had +proceeded with astonishing rapidity, although this was partially +accounted for by the fact that the spill-way, which should have +occupied their attention, had as yet been only partially excavated. +Now, to those ignorant of engineering, an earth dam may seem a +temporary expedient, although most of the great irrigation dams of +the world are of that character; and everybody knows that if the +water should rise high enough to overflow an earth dam it would not +last longer than it takes to describe its utter giving way. A flood +would sweep it out of the way at once. + +The device whereby possible floods are controlled and such dangers +averted, consists of a broad channel at one side of the dam, and at +such a distance below its crest that if, through any mischance or +natural happening, such as the failure of the sluice gates, excessive +rains, cloud bursts, or floods, the height of the water is increased +until it promises to overflow the dam, this opening will carry off +the surplus harmlessly. This channel, usually concreted, is called a +spill-way. It is almost always completely open, rarely being +provided with gates, and it works automatically. Just as soon as the +water rises high enough to be menacing, it flows through the +spill-way and is discharged into the valley below the dam until the +water level in the reservoir is lowered and the danger of overflowing +is ended. The discharged water can do no harm, as there is never +more than the river, without the dam, would have sent down anyway. +An earth dam without a spill-way would presage almost certain +destruction to all who lived in the valley below it. + +In the case of the Picket Wire dam, the spill-way had to be cut and, +in part, blasted out of the mountain side--that is through the spur +of the mesa, which reached down from its high wall towards the +narrows. There had been a series of blunders and mishaps, which +included the explosion of a shipment of dynamite on the railroad, +with very disastrous consequences to accompanying rock-crushers and +mixers, and other machinery. The spill-way had not been completed. +Its opening should have been about twelve feet below the level of the +dam. Vandeventer was not responsible of course. The chief engineer +had fumed and protested, but had been directed by headquarters to go +ahead with the other work and tackle the spill-way later. There was, +indeed, little reason to hold up the building of that particular dam +because of the non-completion of the spill-way. + +That was a country, so the most devoted inhabitants freely admitted, +in which it was always safe to bet that it would not rain, no matter +how threatening might be the appearance of the sky; for in +ninety-nine times out of a hundred the negative would win the bet. +Said inhabitants did not say the hundredth time might compensate for +all the other failures. The weather was like the little girl with +the proverbial curl--when it did rain there was no doubt in anybody's +mind as to the fact. Sometimes the fountains of the great deep, +which in Holy Scripture at least extended overhead, would be broken +open and the violence of the fall and the quantity of it, and +suddenness of it, would be such that the Westerners would graphically +call it a "cloudburst," which, indeed, it seemed to be. + +Outside the rainy season cloudbursts were unheard of, and even in +that season, extremely rare. For the valley of the Picket Wire and +in the plain beneath, carefully tabulated reports of the rainfall for +years had been considered by the engineers. They had chosen the +right season for the building of the dam, but when its crest began to +rise above the designed level of the spill-way the delay in opening +the channel gave cause for some alarm. It is not the probable or +certain that is feared. An old version that, of _omne ignotum pro +magnifico_--it is only the unknown of which men are afraid, or only +the unknown is to be feared! Still there was nothing Vandeventer +could do but obey orders and go ahead. The danger after all was +trifling. Another consequence of the waiting was that in his +inability to work on the spill-way, he had more hands to devote to +the dam and it rose the quicker. + +The shape of the country behind it was such that when the Picket Wire +flowed with sufficient volume to fill it, a long lake going back +through the valley, or cañon, and twisting among the hills for some +miles would result. In other words the dam would make a beautiful +artificial sheet of water bordered on one side by a high range of +hills, on the other by the dam, and on the third by the hills and the +low hog-back above Spanish Mesa, which separated the Picket Wire +valley from the Kicking Horse gorge up which the railroad ran. + +Buried in his own thoughts, communing with himself, considering +ceaselessly his position, dreaming of the woman he loved, planning a +new career, Meade yet explored every foot of the valley and ravine. +He climbed to the top of Spanish Mesa and from its height the whole +country clear up the valley to the main range was visible to him. He +could look down into the deep ravine of the Kicking Horse, and note +the marvelous beauty and airiness of the arch bridge for all it so +solidly carried the heavy freight trains of the railway. + +He could see far up and around the crooked course of the Picket Wire. +The big grass-covered, but otherwise bare and treeless hog-back, that +ran from the upper end of the stone island of the mesa was equally +visible to him. As it was the low side of the new reservoir he +descended to it and studied it carefully. On another occasion, +having said nothing to anyone about his excursion, he took advantage +of a half-holiday to go out and inspect the hog-back and ascertain +its elevation with relation to the dam. Of course the engineers who +planned the great irrigation works had done that, but he wanted to do +it for himself. At one place, where the distance between what might +be called the edge of the valley and the head of the ravine was +narrowest--indeed, he estimated after pacing it that it measured not +over twenty feet across--he discovered that the rounded earth crest +was slightly lower than the intended level of the top of the dam. + +When he returned to the office, he found on examining the +construction drawings that an earth dike was planned to run along the +hog-back so that the top level should be higher than that of the dam. +This dike would be only a hundred and fifty feet long and a few feet +high, and could be built in a few days' time. Work on the main dam +being more important, nothing had as yet been done on the dike. + +Meade had been promoted toward the end of the fall and in a rather +unusual way. One of the transit men, a young engineer, got a better +job and left his instrument. Vandeventer called Meade before him. + +"Roberts," he said, "there's a vacancy for a transit man. You've +done such good work so far and shown such familiarity with field +work, that I'd give it to you if I had any idea that you know +anything about handling instruments." + +"I think I may be trusted with one, sir," answered Meade, his eyes +brightening. + +"Yes, perhaps; but I have watched you in odd hours. The young men +around here are constantly practicing with the transits. I've never +seen you put a hand to one. How about it?" + +"I'm not exactly a youngster, Mr. Vandeventer," returned Meade, "and +I really didn't think it necessary to practice, but if you trust me +with one I believe I can manage it." + +Old Vandeventer leaned back in his chair in the office and looked +carelessly away from Meade to all appearances. He clasped his hands +back of his head and seemed lost in thought. Suddenly he began +humming a little scrap of verse about another college which Cambridge +men sing with zest. + + "_I'm a physical wreck, + From the grand old Tech', + But a hell of an engineer!_" + + +He stopped abruptly, whirled about in his swing-chair, and shot a +quick glance at Meade. It was a trap. And as he sprung it +Vandeventer surprised the ghost of a smile, repressed quickly but +there, on Meade's lips. The chief engineer was satisfied. Before +this, little things had betrayed a fellow alumnus or at least a +fellow student of the old Lawrence Scientific School. Vandeventer +was pleased at his adroitness. He did not, however, refer to it. + +"There's a new transit in that box on the floor there," he said, +resuming his indifferent manner. "I've had the case opened, but I +haven't taken it out. Get it, and we'll go outside and see what you +can do with it." + +Now a transit, for all it is used in rough field work, is one of the +most expensive and delicate of instruments. It is capable of the +most accurate adjustment, and if it is to be of any real use, the +refinement of these adjustments must not be impaired in any degree by +unskilled and reckless packing. The boxes in which the instruments +are shipped are very carefully constructed in accordance with the +principles which experience has shown to be necessary, and each one +is especially fitted to the particular instrument to be contained +therein. The box is a complicated thing and the transit cannot be +taken out or replaced except in one way. With a knowledge of the +combination, so to speak, it is comparatively simple to take a +transit from the box; without that knowledge, which none but an +expert transitman, or the packer himself, can have, it is rather +difficult without running a risk of ruining the instrument. + +This command was another of Vandeventer's tests therefore. Meade +knew this as well as his superior. In spite of himself he would have +to betray his familiarity. Well, he had brought himself to the +conclusion that he could not continue his work without very soon +disclosing the fact that he had been an engineer. And in case of the +inevitable the sooner the better. So long as he had to betray +himself, he would have all the advantages as well as the +disadvantages. He unlocked the door of the box, slid the instrument +out quickly, accurately, without a moment's hesitation, and rapidly +unscrewed the head from the slide-board, and screwed it carefully on +the tripod. Vandeventer's eyes sparkled. + +"Come outside," he said, leading the way to the side of the hill, +"and set it up there over the tack in that stake and level it." + +Beginners have been known to take ten minutes to get a transit set +up, leveled, and centered. It is good work if it is done inside of a +minute, thirty seconds is very fast. In forty-five seconds Meade +reported, "all ready, sir." He could have done it in less, but he +was a little out of practice he said to himself. + +"Look here," said Vandeventer, "you can't pull any more bluff on me, +Roberts; you're an engineer all right." + +"I know something about the practical side of it, sir," answered +Meade, turning a little pale and wondering how far Vandeventer would +press his questions and what he would learn. + +But the engineer was a man. + +"Practical, yes and theoretical too, I'll be bound, but I don't seek +to pry into your antecedents. It's enough for me if you do good work +for me here." + +"I'll do my best, sir." + +"Good, the instrument is yours." + +That was the first step and the next step came very shortly after +when, having further demonstrated his capacity in other ways, Meade +was given charge of the work on the east end of the dam. + +"I don't care who he is," said Vandeventer to his chief subordinate, +"he knows what he's about and if you watch him you'll see. He's keen +on handling men. The other section foremen will be hard put to keep +up with him. He keeps watch on himself. He's got some secret he +won't betray. He doesn't mingle with the crowd, but every once in a +while something slips out. What he doesn't know about engineering +nobody needs to know, I'll wager." + +"How do you account for his being out here?" + +"Oh, it's the old story, I suppose; he's come a cropper +somewhere--down and out and wants to begin again, and can't do +anything but this. It's not our business, Stafford; he does good +work for us and we're satisfied." + + + + +XXIII. + +THE FORMER AND THE LATTER RAIN + +The work on the dam was progressing splendidly. Vandeventer, driving +his men hard, shared in all their furious efforts. He was not only +their leader, but their inspiration. He could safely work them to +the limit because by a process of elimination during the work he had +surrounded himself with a body of able assistants, and by the same +method his teamsters and workmen, many of whom were foreigners, had +been culled from a greater number, until they had become a small army +of picked men, of which to be proud. Among all these Meade stood +very high. He still occupied his comparatively humble position as +gang-foreman, but he had shown such capacity in the four months he +had been with Vandeventer, such a grasp of things, such an ability to +handle men, in one or two instances when, with intention to try him, +the resident engineer had given him charge of some special work, that +Vandeventer unconsciously looked to him in any emergency. He +actually found himself consulting Meade on occasion! + +He had accompanied the younger man on one of those rambles which he +had hitherto taken alone. He had not broken down Meade's reserve, +but he had won his admiration and regard. Vandeventer was not +unknown in engineering circles. In earth work he was by way of being +an authority. His experience had been varied and extensive. Meade's +reserve and reticence rather hurt the older engineer. He had invited +confidence and had even given his affection. He intimated delicately +that if the other were under a cloud Vandeventer might be in a +position to help him. + +It was fortunate for Meade's purpose of concealment, for his +incognito, that most of his engineering work had been done abroad and +that he had been out of touch with American engineering for +practically the whole of his career. Vandeventer was a Harvard man +too, and that made it especially hard for Meade to keep from +betraying himself. As a matter of fact the younger man actually +longed to make a clean breast of it, but he could not quite bring +himself to do it, yet. That might come later. + +Three months ought to see the completion of the dam and the long +canal, which was to carry the stored water to the irrigation ditches +below. Vandeventer was already making plans for another big job, and +he had decided, in his own mind, that among the subordinates whom he +would take with him, the newcomer should have the first chance. +Vandeventer felt proud and satisfied when he surveyed the work that +had been accomplished in the six months of labor. To be sure the +delay in the completion of the spill-way disquieted him a little. + +The dam had reached the spill-way level a fortnight before, and had +now passed it. Indeed, on the fifth of January, the dam builders +were within five feet of the top; that is, the crest of the dam was +one hundred and twenty feet above the level of the valley. They had +planned to run the spill-way around the eastern end of the dam. That +was the end near the spur of the mesa. It was fairly soft rock on +that side, except near where the end of the dam joined the hillside +it was covered over with earth. Through this rock the channel would +be opened to such a depth that when the water rose too high in the +reservoir it would flow through this channel around the dam, and +discharge into the valley a safe distance below the foot of the dam. +This was the spill-way, which had not yet been completely excavated +or blasted out on account of the delay in receiving the rock drills +and dynamite which had been ordered, as has been explained. + +These supplies had finally arrived in December, and by putting as +many as possible to work on the spill-way Vandeventer had succeeded +in opening it for its entire width to an average depth of about seven +feet below the intended top of the dam; that is, it was now about two +feet deeper than the actual crest of the dam, but it still lacked +five feet of its designed depth. + +The rainy season, an inspection of the records had shown, was not due +for a month and a half yet. That would give him ample time to +complete the dam and the spill-way. Sometimes it did not rain from +June until the next March. In that country that was why irrigation +was needed. This year, however, there had been some very unusual +rains during the fall and the water back of the dam was now +ninety-eight feet deep, which made it twenty-two feet below the level +to which the dam had risen and twenty feet below the spill-way. This +was much more water than anyone had dreamed would be in the reservoir +at that time, and was perhaps more than should have been allowed. +Still there was a safety margin of twenty-two feet, which Vandeventer +was sure would be ample. The financial promoters of the project were +very anxious to have the reservoir full when the irrigating season +opened, and the engineer's judgment had been influenced by their +eagerness to get it working. + +The broad sheet of water ran back into the valley for many miles. In +fact the dam had transformed the country into a beautiful lake. +Sometimes it rained in the mountains when it did not rain down in the +valley, and there was a constant, if very small, rise in the level. +Vandeventer personally carefully gauged the water every day. +Naturally he had noted that it rose gradually, but as the dam rose +proportionately more rapidly, he was not uneasy. Yet, as a good +engineer, he was watchful and largely because of the unfinished +spill-way he urged the men to the very limit. + +Those who could understand the situation seconded him heartily and +such was the contagion and the enthusiasm of all hands as the job +approached completion that, although the men grumbled at being so +driven, they worked with a will. The weatherwise from the town, who +sometimes rode up to inspect the work, assured Vandeventer that it +could not possibly rain before March, and the mere fact that so much +water had fallen, rendered it more improbable that any more would +come down. Yet nature has a way of doing unexpected things and +everybody knows that all calculations which depend upon nature are +empiric anyway. To lay down an invariable natural law for the +weather is impossible because of the infinite variety of permutations +and combinations of which nature is capable, especially when it comes +to weather manifestations in what are known as the "arid regions." + +Whatever be the case, at three on the afternoon of January sixth it +suddenly began to rain hard without warning and with no premonition +on the part of anybody. It was not one of those terrible downpours +referred to, which are popularly and graphically, if incorrectly, +known as cloudbursts, but it was an excessively hard, steady rain. +The heavens over the range were black with clouds and so far as +anyone at the dam could see, it was raining from the crest of the +mountains down. There were some anxious discussions in the +dining-room of the resident engineer and his American assistants. + +At four o'clock it was decided to open the under-sluice gate about +halfway, but when this was done the volume of water it was capable of +discharging was too small to help very much, and on opening it to its +fullest extent the velocity of the water rushing through was so great +that the river bed was rapidly scoured out. For fear of undermining +the toe of the dam it was necessary partially to close the sluice +once more. + +The water was rising, first at the rate of three or four inches in an +hour, then half a foot, and finally nearly a foot. By six o'clock +that night it had risen two feet. It was still raining hard at that +hour, although not quite so furiously as it had been. There were no +signs of a break when night drew on, but it was practically +inconceivable that it could rain all night, and rough calculations +convinced them that even if it did rain until morning at the present +rate there would still be a margin of safety of perhaps fourteen or +fifteen feet at dawn, that is to say the top of the dam would still +be fourteen or fifteen feet above the water level. + +Of course if the spill-way had been completed it would not have been +of so much importance if it had risen further, because before it grew +dangerous it would have been relieved by the outflow through that +channel. Well, although the situation required watchfulness and was +somewhat alarming it was not desperate. The men were advised to put +in all the time in their bunks so as to be good and ready for the +hard battle which might come in the morning, and as they were all +tired out with their day's work the little group soon broke up and +each man went to his quarters. + +Vandeventer, however, could not sleep. The rain kept up steadily all +night. It thundered on the galvanized roofs of the houses with a +roar of sound which he would not have minded if he had been used to +it and gradually seemed to increase in intensity. The resident +engineer finally got up and dressed himself, and protected by high +rubber boots and a cowboy slicker and a sou'wester, he left his +quarters and went out to inspect the dam. He carried a lantern of +course, for it was pitch dark and, if possible, the rain dropping +from the black sky made it more difficult to see. + +He was surprised when he got to the dam to see on the other side +another lantern. Someone else was abroad. For what purpose? There +was no reason for Vandeventer to suspect anyone of evil intent. But +by this time the situation had rather got on his nerves, what with +the rain, his sleepless night, the unopened spill-way, and the +possibilities of the situation. Closing the slide of his own lantern +to prevent observation and being on familiar ground he went straight +toward the other side. The noise of the rain subdued any sound that +he made and he was able to come quite close to the other light +without being noticed. + +The lantern was standing on the roadway on top of the dam. A man was +kneeling beyond it, his figure seen dimly in the faint light of the +lantern. He was staring intently down the front of the dam at the +water. The lantern was near the edge and it faintly illuminated the +black rain-lashed surface below. Vandeventer realized with a shock +of horror how much more rapid the rise had been. A quick estimate +convinced him that the level of the water was now within eight or +nine feet of the dam--and it was still raining! + +The face of the kneeling man was hidden by a sou'wester and he had on +a heavy black rubber raincoat. Vandeventer reached over and touched +him on the shoulder. + +"What are you doing here?" he asked. + +The kneeling man sprang up with an exclamation. It was Meade. The +relief in Vandeventer's mind was great at the recognition. + +"I just came out to look at the water. I couldn't sleep with all +that pounding on the iron roof of the quarters, so I dressed and came +out." + +Vandeventer opened the slide of his own lantern and threw the light +on the reservoir. + +"It's risen eight or ten feet since we saw it." + +"At least that," said Meade. + +"I judge it's about nine feet down to the water." + +"Not an inch more than that." + +"And with this rain-- + +"It's not coming down so hard as it was when I first came out here," +said Meade. "I think you can see it slackening yourself." + +"Yes," said the resident engineer, listening a moment, "I believe it +is. If it stops now," he continued thoughtfully, "we ought to be +safe." + +"Yes, I think so," answered Meade. + +In the night alone, together in that crisis in their fortunes, the +two men were interchanging thoughts and ideas on terms of perfect +equality. It did not occur to Vandeventer to question why, and that +they were doing so aroused no surprise in the mind of Meade. + +"Of course," continued Meade, "even if it does stop raining we'll +continue to get a lot of runoff from the watershed for some time." + +"Yes," said the resident engineer, "that of course, but if the rain +stops everywhere we can scarcely have a rise of more than five or six +feet and that would still be a little below the spill-way." + +"It's stopping here now," pointed out Meade and, indeed, the force of +the downpour was greatly diminished. + +The two stood watching the dam and the black lake beyond it in +silence for a few moments until the rain practically ceased. The air +was misty and heavy with moisture, but the rain was certainly over +for the time at any rate. + +"Thank God," said the resident engineer in great relief. "Now if it +has stopped everywhere we'll be all right." + +"Yes," said Meade, "and I'm inclined to think it has stopped +everywhere. Whoever thought it would rain in January here? There +hasn't a drop, to speak of, fallen in January for twenty years, or +since there have been any records. Why in heaven's name it had to +come now I don't see." + +"Does the water seem to you to be rising?" + +"Yes," answered Meade, after a careful survey, "but much more slowly." + +"Look here, Roberts," said Vandeventer suddenly, "you know you're a +first-class engineer." + +Meade shook his head. + +"You can't fool me," said the older man. "I've watched you. You +know more about the game than anybody here except myself. You don't +choose to confide in me, although I like you, and I am in a position +to help you." + +"I appreciate what you say, Mr. Vandeventer," returned the other, +"there is no one to whom I should rather tell the whole story than to +you, but I can't, not yet." + +"Well, keep your own counsel, but if you ever want a friend count on +me; meanwhile as a man of experience and ability what would you do?" + +"Get out the men and build up a temporary dam on the top of the +roadway here, to turn the flow over to the east bank and make the +spill-way do more work." + +"But the rain has stopped." + +"And in all probability it will stay stopped, still you never can +tell. That it rained at all is contrary to the universal expectation +and observation, but once it has done so it may do so again, however +unlikely. A few more hours of rain like that we've had and the whole +thing would go. If the water were as high as the top there'd only be +two feet of head in the uncompleted spill-way and that wouldn't be +enough to discharge it at the rate it's been coming in." + +"Of course," said Vandeventer thoughtfully. "And if the dam goes," +he added, "there are ten miles of back water up there and millions of +cubic yards impounded, which would sweep down the valley. There +wouldn't be a thing left of the camp, the town, the new railroad +bridge, or anything else." + +"Coming on top of the International, the loss of this big and +expensive viaduct would about finish the Martlet Company," said Meade +thoughtlessly. + +Vandeventer looked at him sharply. An idea suddenly came to him. +Meade had turned away his head as he realized his slip, so he did not +observe the light in Vandeventer's eyes. However, the resident +engineer was a good sort. + +"You are right," he said quickly. "I hate to call out the men, but +we've got a little chance now the rain has stopped, and we can work +to advantage in spite of all this awful mud"--he lifted his foot up +and disclosed it caked and clogged with masses. "I'll take charge in +the center here and Stafford on the left, and I'm going to give you +charge of the east end of the dam over by the spill-way. If only +those drills had been here six weeks ago." + +"We might set the men to work on that rock now," said Meade. + +"It would be useless. There's too much of it. No, if we're going to +save the dam we've got to build it up and try to keep ahead of the +waters if they rise any more. The higher we can build it, the +greater will be the head on the spill-way, and the more will be +discharged. I'll turn the men out at once." + +"But what are you going to do?" + +"I'm going to palisade the top of the dam. There's plenty of timber +already cut down and we will cut a lot of young pines and build a +palisaded wall of timber across the top three or four feet back from +the edge. Well banked on the down-stream side it may hold." + +"It might be worth while to line that palisade with galvanized iron +sheets from the houses," said Meade. + +"A good idea," said Vandeventer, "and we'll pile what underbrush and +small stuff we have in front of the palisade and heap what rocks we +can find on top of that, and we'll bank it up on the other side with +earth. It's a poor dependence, but it will hold for a while anyway +and every moment of time may be precious." + +"How about sand bags, sir?" + +"We've got a few hundred cement bags, but not enough. I wish we had +a few thousand; however, we will fill what we have and if the water +rises and begins to trickle over the top and through the palisade +we'll jam those down at the danger points. Can you suggest anything +more?" + +"Nothing." + +"Good. We'll turn out the men. They've had six hours' sleep anyway." + + + + +XXIV + +THE BATTLE + +It was now three o'clock in the morning. In about half an hour the +men, naturally grumbling and protesting at being deprived of any of +their sleep, were out and at work. Lanterns were lighted everywhere. +The rain had fortunately not resumed, and the air was soon filled +with noise and confusion. Men with axes were busy on the hillside +cutting the young pines. Horses, which would have protested as much +as the men had they been able, were hitched to the dump wagons, the +steam shovel began tearing away the hillside. Some of the men were +detailed to knock down some of the galvanized iron houses and the +battering of the hammers on the metal added to the din. + +Under Vandeventer's personal direction a row of stakes was driven +into the top of the dam about three feet from the front of it. He +had intended to put the stakes a foot apart, but he decided that in +the emergency he would not have time for so close a palisade, and +therefore they were placed about two feet from one another. There +were only about one hundred and fifty men working on the dam, and +there was a limit even to what the hardiest and most desperate worker +could do. + +Big sheets of overlapping galvanized iron were nailed roughly to the +fronts of the firmly bedded stakes and the small branches and +brushwood were thrown down before it. There were a great many small +bowlders and big stones which had accumulated during the excavations +and these were carried out on the dam in the wagons and thrown down +on the brushwood so as to bind the improvised mat of branches into a +sort of revetment; spare timbers, broken wagon beds, old wheels, +joists of dismembered houses were driven into the earth to serve as +braces behind the palisade; but the main support of this wooden wall, +with its skirmish line of frail brushwood, was a bank of earth which +was piled up behind it, on which every man, even the chiefs +themselves, who could be spared from other tasks labored with +breathless energy. The water was still rising, although the rain had +stopped; the natural drainage would cause that, but the rise was +slower. + +At dawn Vandeventer personally carefully measured the depth of the +water and gauged it again. It was a scant six and a half feet below +the top of the dam. At daylight the palisade at which they had +worked so hard in the darkness showed its flimsy front to all. It +was a desperate expedient. That, the least intelligent workman could +see. If the water rose above the top of the dam it was gravely +questionable whether the palisade would hold it at all, yet there was +no other way of increasing the depth of the spill-way enough to +discharge the flood volume. + +Working as hard as they could, they had barely succeeded in raising +the earth bank back of it a foot high. They kept at it +unremittingly, although it did not seem to be of much use. +Vandeventer, Stafford and Meade gathered together and scanned the +sky, seeking to discern the signs of the time, the purpose of the +heavens. It was clearer in the east. The clouds to the +northwestward were in violent action apparently. Lightning flashed +through them and over the great range itself; low muttered peals of +thunder came down from the peaks lost to sight in the blackness +overhead. They observed all this carefully and Vandeventer turned +away, shaking his head. + +"I don't know," he began--the three of them were over on the east +side the better to see up the valley--"it looks pretty bad, doesn't +it?" + +"It does," answered Meade, while Stafford nodded his head. + +"And, by the way, Stafford, have you notified the town and the bridge +people of the danger and bid them prepare for it?" + +"I tried to telephone them awhile ago, but the connection has been +broken; the storm has played havoc with the line probably," answered +the assistant engineer. + +"Well, what did you do, then?" asked Vandeventer a little +imperatively. + +"I sent a man down on horseback in a hurry to warn them that if it +rains again the dam might go, and if it did it would go with a rush; +that the water was now only six feet below the level and that they +had better get up on the hills. Of course, last night's rain must +have made the road almost impassable, but he ought to get there by +nine o'clock. I told him to tell the Martlet people to take whatever +steps they could devise to hold their viaduct and their machinery," +answered Stafford, as he turned and walked toward his own part of the +dam. + +"Good," exclaimed Vandeventer. "There's nothing left for us to do +but keep on." + +The resident engineer looked white and haggard. Although it was cold +and raw in the wet air he wiped the sweat from his forehead. + +"The men are doing splendidly, sir," said Meade. + +"Yes," said Vandeventer, "many of them have their wives and children +back in the town. Some of the Italians have bought land on the +prairie and are going to settle here. They're fighting for +everything they've got on earth. What do you think of the chances of +this palisade of ours?" + +Meade shook his head. + +"You want a frank opinion?" + +"Of course. What else?" + +"It wouldn't hold an hour." + +"That's right, and yet it's all we can do." + +"That hour might save the dam, though." + +"Doubtful," said Vandeventer gloomily. + +"It's all we can do, as you say, sir, but if the water rises more +than seven or eight feet----" + +"Say it," said Vandeventer. + +"The dam would go like a house of cards." + +"Exactly. And look at that cloudbank over there in the northwest. +It's spreading." + +"What wind there is," said Meade, moistening his finger and holding +it up to feel the direction, "is blowing the opposite way down here, +but you can't tell what is happening up there. Well, all we can do +is to fight on." + +And fight they did. It was almost at first sight like the hand of +man against the hand of God. There was no more room for science, no +more room for engineering expedient. It was chop and hew, break and +pound, dig and drive, carry and pile. Throwing off his coat, +Vandeventer seized a spade and began to work like any other laborer, +and the rest of the higher men followed his example. + +At six o'clock the blackness hanging in the northwest began to turn +their way. It was coming down the mountain. It was headed for the +valley. Vandeventer saw it, every teamster, every common laborer saw +it. It was coming. Unless heaven itself interfered there would be +more rain. They had worked desperately before, but now they applied +themselves to their tasks with a kind of wild fury. A sort of +insanity took possession of them. They would not be beaten. They +cried, at first shrilly and then hoarsely and raucously, encouraging +words and phrases from one to another; terse, vivid, profane, +desperate. They stood there and they heaved and dug and piled and +hammered and hurled and drove fiercely. It was a battle madness that +came into them. They saw red like the berserker of old. Yes, it was +not unlike a battle in other ways, for with the rush of the northwest +storm came roaring mighty thunder and vivid and terrifying lightning. +It was as if great darts of light literally were hurled by some +gigantic hand behind the black screen of sweeping cloud down upon the +granite mountains. They saw splinters of fire where the thunderbolts +struck. The pealing of thunder was appalling. + +Their frail palisade backing was not half completed. It must be +raining somewhere, for the water was still slowly rising. It was +five and a half feet now from the crest. It was hopeless if another +rain fell, and the rain was coming. There was an added chill in the +still air of the valley as the storm drove down upon them. A few of +the fainter hearts flung down pick and shovel and axe and stood +craven. Oaths, curses, blows even, from those of the braver sort +shamed them into work again. These brave hearts and true might be +swept away with the dam if it gave way, but they would not give up, +and no man working with them should flee his task or shirk his duty. +By the Living God, whose sport and playthings they seemed to be, they +swore it; and so weak and strong, bold and timid labored +on--desperate, resolved, god-like in their courage and persistence. + +The clouds were moving swiftly now. To the east it had been clear, +but now it was also black, and then with a roar greater even than a +thousand thunderclaps the wind tore down the mountains, through the +narrow cañons, into the valleys, shrieking in the pines, and fell +upon them and hurled them down and brushed them back. And after the +wind, the rain. A drop or two struck Vandeventer's cheek; another, +another, and then the flood. He lifted his head and stared and shook +his fist at the sky and turned to the human termites he commanded. + +"Carry on, carry on, boys," he cried, shrieking to be heard above the +thunder peals, "we'll beat it yet." + +A cheer rose about him and was caught up and ran along the top of the +great dam. The half-maniacal yell was such a cry as men might give +vent to in the heat of battle, the excitement of wild charge, and +then they fell to it again. The more ignorant, unaware of the +feebleness of the palisade, the more knowing indifferent to it, +seeing only the job, alike realized only their duty to fight on, to +answer the appeal to their manhood, to refuse to admit defeat even +when life trembled in the balance. + +Yes, to use the ancient simile again, the fountains of the great deep +were broken open. What had befallen them before was nothing to this. +The hard rain of the night seemed trifling compared to this avalanche +of water. This was a cloudburst indeed. And to make it worse, to +make their task harder, to render their efforts useless, the high +wind roaring down the valley piled the water up and drove it in +thunderous assaulting waves against the great mound of earth on which +the men struggled and labored frantically. Vandeventer, shovel in +hand--he did not dare to throw it down, lest his action be +misconstrued,--went from gang to gang, from man to man, talking to +them, appealing to them, pointing out weaknesses here and there, +inspiring them, holding them up as a man might hold a stricken line +against the onslaught of a victorious and overwhelming force. And +against wind and rain in that thick darkness, blinded by the flashing +lightning, stunned by the pealing thunder, with zeal superhuman they +toiled on and on and on. + +Back and forth went the chief, showing himself a leader of leaders, +and wherever he stopped the fury and desperation of the effort to +stem the tide increased. When he came plodding along the muddy +roadway to the part committed to Meade he did not find the engineer. + +"Where's Roberts?" he yelled above the noise of the storm. + +"He and two men have gone, sir." + +"Gone?" cried Vandeventer, cut to the heart at what he thought was a +desertion. "Well," he shouted, realizing there was nothing he could +do then and that he had neither breath nor time to waste, "there's +more need for the rest of us to take their places." + +He drew a man or two from the other gangs to re-enforce this danger +point and himself directed their work. + +Now it takes time for water to rise five feet, even in a cloudburst +or a succession of them. The rain constantly seemed to increase as +the wind drove it on. Vandeventer knew that the dam was doomed, that +the sluice and the half-finished spill-way combined could discharge +only a small part of the flow, but he knew that he would have two +hours at least to work before the water could pass the crest, +undermine, and batter down the palisade and begin to trickle over. +Just as soon as it did roll over the top, unless they could stop it, +the whole thing was gone. For those two hours the supermen labored +unremittingly in the downpour with a persistent and heroic courage +that should have been recorded in song and story, but which was not. +It was remembered after a while by none, save a few. To the many it +was only "all in the day's work"! + +The under sluice in the side of the dam which would later serve as +head gate for the canal had been intended to pass the smaller floods +which might occur during the construction and had been open since the +rain began. It carried off a great volume of water, but hopelessly +little in comparison with the flood. Foot by foot in the torrential +downpour the water rose. At half after eight it reached the level of +the spill-way and commenced to rush through in ever increasing +volume, but the flow into the reservoir was far greater than the +spill-way's capacity. + +Still the sight of the rushing water encouraged the men. Every one +of them felt that if the palisade held the discharge would be +increased enough to stop the rise, but at present the effect was +small. By nine o'clock it was within a foot of the top. They began +to measure its rise by inches. Although the dam had been carefully +kept level as it was built, the trample of horses and men, the +present digging and palisading and revetting had caused little +depressions. Now the water rose to the level. Here and there it +began to trickle over! + +The rain coming down from the mountain tops was as cold as ice, yet +the men were in a fever of excitement. They had got their second +wind. They were too enthused, too desperate, to feel their +weariness. They had not worked before as they did then. It was the +last possible nervous outburst with most of them. They could keep it +up a little longer--till they dropped dead. As the mad thoroughbred +falls in his stride in the track, pushed beyond his power of +endurance, as even the common cart horse can be made to go until he +drops, so these men, white, haggard, nervous, drawn-faced, sweat +mingling with the rain on their sodden bodies, would go till they +broke. They had not quite reached that point yet. + +There were some five hundred heavy cement bags which had been filled +with sand and piled up on the roadway at convenient points. As a +forlorn hope, as a last try, Vandeventer called all the diggers and +ditchers, and hewers and drivers, and bade them tackle the sand bags. +The timber wall that rose to four or five feet was now packed to a +height of three with an unequal wall of earth. + +The waves were beginning to roll against the rampart, although their +force as yet was broken by the brushwood. Vandeventer jumped up on +the palisade near the center. There were some large logs there where +he could stand and whence he could get as clear a view of the whole +top of the dam as was possible through the driving rain. + +"There," shouted the engineer, pointing to a red trickle--it seemed +to him like blood, taking its hideous hue from the red clay of the +banks--where the water had found a low spot and was washing across +the top and trickling through the new wall and down on the other +side. Even as he pointed the trickle became a stream and the stream +bade fair to be a flood. Men ran and dropped sand bags over in front +of the palisade right where the leak had occurred. Other men heaped +up the earth behind the wall, seeking to smother it and stop it. The +water checked there, they were forced to do the same thing at another +place. Desperately they dropped their sand bags, sturdily they plied +their shovels in the mud, scrambling and yelling they ran from leak +to leak. They lifted the heavy bags of sand as if they had been +loaves of bread and jammed them down. They swung pick and shovel +like toys, although the rain made all the earth sticky mud and the +work all the harder. The water was clear over the top of the dam now +and streaming through the revetment of brush and surging against the +palisade. Where it did not let the water through, the line of stakes +was beginning to bend backward. + +The men who had expended their sand bags and could get no more in one +final effort ran to the palisade, dug their heels madly in the wet, +slimy earth and put their shoulders against the bending stakes as if +to hold them up by main strength. Thin streams were flowing here and +there, now unheeded. Checked and held in one spot, the water broke +through at another. The spill-way could not control the rise. + +"She's gone, she's gone. My God!" gasped Vandeventer under his +breath. He had fought a good fight. He could do no more. There +were no more bags of sand. Save for the men straining at the wall +here and there and everywhere, there was left nothing but to stand +and wait, having done all. As one man saw another the whole hundred +and fifty caught the contagion and threw themselves against the +palisade, wet and chilled from the rain, but yet madly, recklessly, +Americans and foreigners alike. They would hold it by main strength +for another minute, they swore, oblivious to the fact that just as +soon as it went it would go with a rush. + +The stockade would be swept away first and they would go with it. +What of that? The men back of it matched their brawny arms against +rain and wind, the powers of man against the powers of God, but not +mockingly. It is perhaps doubtful if they realized what they did. +It was instinct, habit, blind desperation now. If the flimsy wall +failed under the terrific water pressure they would be hurled beneath +it, swept down the slope of the dam, buried in the débris as it was +swept away, caught up if they by any chance survived so far, and +hurled broken and battered down the valley in the terrible flood that +would ensue. What did they know about that, or knowing, what did +they care, as they strained at the wavering timber wall? And still +they held as the rain poured down on them, soaking through their +soggy clothes, the colder on their exhausted bodies for the keen wind +that blew across them. + +Well, they had done everything they could. Vandeventer jumped down +and pressed himself against the nearest timber with the men and +waited, silent. He had never sustained such a pressure in all his +life. Like Atlas, he felt as if he were holding up a world. And the +mocking thing about it all was his feeling, nay his realization, that +he was not really holding anything, that if the palisades failed, his +pressure, his resistance and that of all the other men amounted to +nothing. Yet he held on and they, too--demi-gods! + + + + +IV + +SPILL-WAY + + + +[Illustration: (diagram of reservoir and surrounding terrain)] + + + +XXV + +THE ANCIENT ART OF FASCINATION + +And much of the last wild hurricane of work took place under the +observation of a woman! + +From the top of the big mesa there was a clear view of the new +reservoir, from the dam on one side far back into the hills on the +other. In spite of the tremendous downpour and the fierce gale Helen +Illingworth stood exposed to both attacks, and, indeed, indifferent +to them,--albeit protected by slicker and boots and +sou'wester--fascinated by the titanic struggle between nature and man +of which she was a witness. How she came to be there herself is +another chapter and how the two men who stood by her came to be with +her is now to be related. + +The general investigation by Rodney and Miss Illingworth had produced +no results. A careful study by each of the members of the new +alliance of Rodney's accurately reported, graphically set forth notes +upon the subject had only served the more thoroughly to convince each +of them of the correctness of their conclusions. Analyzed and +expanded, iterated and reiterated, scrutinized and emphasized by each +of them separately and then together in many long discussions, they +only made them more and more confident that Meade was blameless. But +the most assiduous effort with the heartiest will in the world and +the promptings of devotion and affection could not make a case out of +these suggestions and their inferences that would hold water. They +could not establish their contention beyond peradventure in the face +of Meade's direct admission and Shurtliff's corroboration. They +could not establish it in the public mind by any evidence at all if +Meade and Shurtliff remained silent. + +If either one or the other of the two conspirators could be brought +to tell the truth, Meade could be restored, at least sufficiently so +for the purpose of argument; the argument that Helen Illingworth +sooner or later must make to her father. It was that to which she +gave the most thought, it was for that she planned and longed. + +Two people cannot resolve even by mutual consent to dismiss from +their daily thought and conversation any subject whatsoever without +introducing in place of it a certain constraint. It is as futile to +attempt to dismiss anything absolutely from the human mind as is the +oft suggested cure for rheumatism--doing certain things without +thinking of the disease sought to be cured! + +Colonel Illingworth had dismissed Meade from his mind because he +hated him. Helen Illingworth refrained from talking about him to her +father because she loved him. So they were never in each other's +presence without thinking of the man. This was a source of great +irritation to the father. On occasion he almost found himself at the +point of shouting at his daughter to talk about him. And that she so +carefully avoided the subject and as the avoidance was so obviously +in accordance with his own wish, the restraint irritated him the +more. The fact that they both sought so carefully to maintain the +old relationship made it the more impossible. For relationships +which are primarily founded on love cannot be maintained by +constraint without the weakening of the great force upon which their +tenure had previously depended. There is nothing like concealment to +impair and weaken a tie unless it be a ban! Prohibitions rarely +prohibit. Still there remained a deep and abiding affection between +father and daughter and they managed somehow to get along outwardly +much as before. Indeed Colonel Illingworth was more kind and +considerate than ever to his daughter, and she repaid him with more +than usual care and devotion. The very fact that she seemed to have +accepted the situation and obeyed the law he had laid down gave him +some compunctions of conscience. On that account perhaps he had been +the more willing to accede to her request to take Shurtliff into his +employ. In no way was Shurtliff responsible for the failure of the +bridge or for any mistake in the calculations of the Meades, and +Shurtliff was an invaluable man, not only for an engineer but for the +president of the Martlet Bridge Company. + +He was familiar with the subjects that Colonel Illingworth discussed +and wrote about. He was intelligent and reliable to the last degree, +his reputation for steadiness and discretion unquestioned, and he was +marvelously efficient in his subordinate position. The Colonel, +having first tried him out, had advanced him rapidly after learning +his worth. He was now his private secretary. Shurtliff being an old +bachelor without kith or kin and not originally fond of women, found +himself suddenly in touch with one of the sweetest and kindest, as +well as the youngest and most beautiful of a sex about which he knew +nothing. + +His new position naturally brought him into close touch with the +Colonel. The old man transacted a good deal of his business in his +own house. Shurtliff was frequently there. Under other +circumstances Helen Illingworth would have treated him with that fine +and gracious courtesy which she extended to everyone with whom she +came in contact, but she would not have especially interested herself +in him. She would not have made him the object of the delicate +attention and given him the careful consideration which would have +completely turned the head of a younger and more susceptible man. + +There had been a prejudice in Shurtliff's mind against women in +general, and Helen Illingworth in particular. He had quickly +realized that she above all persons had the greatest interest in +disproving Meade's statement and his own and in laying the blame for +the failure of the bridge where it belonged, on the shoulders of the +patron, to love whom had been the habit of his life. Therefore, the +old secretary was constantly on his guard lest he be entrapped into +admissions or actions which might be used to discredit the older +Meade and convict the two conspirators. + +But Helen Illingworth was far too clever to allow any inkling of such +a design to appear. Not the remotest hint of such a purpose did she +betray. She deliberately set about to win the old man's regard and +respect and perhaps eventually his affection. She had the ordering +of her father's household, of course. That was a matter in which the +Colonel concerned himself not at all so long as things went smoothly, +as they always did. He was a little astonished at her treatment of +Shurtliff, but the old secretary was at heart a gentleman and there +was no reason why, if Helen chose to include him among her friends +and invite him to dinner and otherwise make him welcome in the house, +she should not do so. And in his dry, precise way Shurtliff was +rather likable. He was touched and flattered by her kindness and in +spite of his suspicions, which gradually grew less, by the way, he +exerted himself to show his appreciation and to bear himself +seemingly in his new life. + +Colonel Illingworth had no suspicions whatsoever that there had been +any conspiracy to suppress the truth and shift the blame. True his +daughter had protested on that fatal day that she did not believe +Meade and Shurtliff, but that was in the excitement of the moment and +understandable in view of her plighted troth. Helen had never +discussed that with him; even the very name of the engineer being +banned, she was silent. She was wise enough not to try to worry or +bother her father with arguments on that point, to which, of course, +he would not have listened in any event. + +Accordingly the conferences with Rodney had never been brought to his +notice. There was no use stirring up trouble and strife. There was +no necessity even to discuss it with her father until she had found +more proof. So he at least had no suspicions as to her treatment of +Shurtliff. He could not see any end to be gained and therefore he +jumped to the conclusion that there was none. + +In course of time, as Miss Illingworth never referred to Meade in the +secretary's presence, all his mistrust disappeared. Finally he even +brought up the subject of Meade's whereabouts of his own motion. +Although the girl was fairly wild to talk and ask questions she had +wit and resolution enough to change the subject when it had been +first broached and for many times thereafter. + +Helen Illingworth was fighting for the reputation of the man she +loved and for her own happiness, and she was resolved to neglect no +point in the game. She partook in a large measure of her father's +capacity, but she added to his somewhat blunt and military way of +doing things the infinite tact of woman, stimulated by a growing, +overwhelming devotion to her absent lover. She cherished that +feeling for him in any event and would have done so but the whole +situation was so charged with mystery and surcharged with romance +that it made the most powerful and stimulating appeal to her. + +She lived to vindicate Meade and she bent every effort toward that +end. She did not overdo it, either. Finally, as he himself +continued to press the subject upon her, she made no secret to +Shurtliff of her devotion to the younger Meade, her sorrow that he +had made such a declaration, and her determination to wait for him. +She was always careful to end every conversation by saying that she +knew her outlook was perfectly hopeless and that she could expect +nothing except sorrow until the younger Meade was rehabilitated. She +so contrived matters, while constantly affirming her feeling for +Meade, as to let Shurtliff infer that she was convinced that he had +been telling the truth in what he had said. + +After a time she deftly appealed to him to know if he could not help +her discover the truth which she tactfully maintained even in face of +the evidence that Shurtliff had given. And she did this in such an +adroit way that Shurtliff became convinced that she did not connect +him with any willful deception, and that she believed that he was +deluded himself and occupied the position of an innocent abettor. +And Shurtliff, in his strange, old, self-contained way, finally grew +to like Helen Illingworth exceedingly. Indeed he started in his work +with natural antagonism to Colonel Illingworth, and when he sensed, +as he very soon did, the difference that had arisen between father +and daughter, he espoused the cause of the latter. He was the kind +of a man who had to devote himself to somebody. He began to wonder +if there was any way to secure the girl's happiness without betraying +the elder Meade. + +She compassed the secretary, who was, of course, old enough to be her +father, with sweet observances and he found it increasingly hard to +keep true to his falsehood. Now she was capable of fascinating +bigger personalities than Shurtliff, although she cared little for +that power and rarely exercised it. The old man actually got to +thinking of her as a daughter. Sometimes when they had an hour +together he found himself seconding her arguments for the innocence +of the younger Meade, for she had progressed that far by now, with +little details which his knowledge and experience of the two men +could supply. Trifling in themselves as were these contributions, as +Rodney pointed out when she repeated them to him, they nevertheless +added something to the cumulative force of the argument so +laboriously built up by the friend and woman. And they were +decidedly indicative of a growing mental condition on the part of +Shurtliff from which much might be hoped and expected. + +But Shurtliff could not bring himself to come out boldly and confess, +and his failure to do that made him more and more miserable. At +first his conscience had been entirely clear. He had viewed his +conduct in the light of a noble sacrifice for the great man. Now he +began to question: Was it right to blast the future of the living for +the sake of the fame of the dead? Probably he would have questioned +that eventually without regard to Helen Illingworth, but when he +began to grow fond of the woman and when he realized, as she +unmistakably disclosed it to him, that her own happiness was engaged +and that he was not only ruining the career of a man but wrecking the +life and crushing the heart of an entirely innocent woman, he had a +constant battle royal with himself to pursue his course and to keep +silent. + +Yet such is the character of a temperament like that of Shurtliff, +narrowed and contracted by a single passion in a life and lacking the +breadth which comes from intercourse with men and women, that his +compunctions of conscience only made him the more resolved. The +lonely, heartbroken old man swore that he would never tell. The +young man could go his own gait and work out his own salvation, or be +damned, if he must. The woman's heart might break, pitiful as that +would be, but he would never tell. He was as unhappy in that +determination as any other man fighting against his conscience must +inevitably be. + +Sometimes looking at the misery in the old man's face (for on his +countenance his heart wrote his secret), Helen Illingworth +experienced compunctions of conscience of her own, which she told to +Rodney in default of other confessor. That fine young man +appreciated fully the woman's feelings and understood her keen +sensibilities, and his comprehension was a great comfort to her. He +encouraged her to persevere. Since it was only through Shurtliff +that the truth could be established, she must not falter nor reject +any fair and reasonable means to gain his whole confidence and make +him speak. It was, after all, simply a question of whether the game +was worth the candle. How best could they expose or fight a deceit? +And that the deception was for a noble purpose and to serve a +laudable end in the minds of the deceivers did not alter that fact. + +"You are doing nothing in the least degree dishonorable, Miss +Illingworth," said Rodney, reassuringly. "Woman's wiles have been +her weapons since the Stone Age." + +"But I do feel compunctions of conscience occasionally." + +"Personally I think you are abundantly justified," urged Rodney. + +"Yes, to establish the truth, to give the man I love his good name +would justify more than this," she replied, "and yet"--she smiled +faintly--"my conscience does hurt me a little. The old man is +beginning to love me." + +"That's the reason it hurts you," said Rodney. "When he loves you +enough he will do anything you want, as I would----" + +The young man stopped, looked long at her, and then turned away with +a little gesture of--was it appeal or renunciation? He was too loyal +to his friend to speak, but he could not control everything. The +tone of his voice, the look in his eyes, his quick avoidance of her, +told the woman a little story. They had been very closely +associated, these two. Rodney also had not had much advantage of +woman's society, certainly not of a woman like Helen Illingworth. +She had given him her full confidence in the intimacy. He was a man. +He loved like others. She was too fond of him, too great, too true a +woman to pretend. + +"Mr. Rodney," said the girl, laying her hand on his arm, "that way +madness lies." + +"Miss Illingworth," said Rodney, turning and facing her, his lips +firmly compressed, his eyes shining, "I'm devoted to Bert Meade and +to you"--he lifted her hand from his arm and kissed it--"and I'm +going to do everything for your happiness." + +Brave words and he said them bravely. + +"I understand," said the woman, "and I honor you for your loyalty to +your friend and your devotion to me. Loyalty is not always the +easiest thing on earth, I know." + +"You make it easy for me because you understand." + +So the fall and winter were filled with interest to Helen Illingworth +and there was in her days no lack of hope. Every Saturday the +flowers that Meade had arranged for spoke words of love to her and +bade her not forget, although that was admonition she did not need. + +That was the only message that she received from her lover. He had +dropped out of sight completely. They caused search to be made for +him, sought tidings of him in every possible way, but in vain. Her +heart almost broke sometimes at the separation. She had confidence +enough in her power over him, and in her woman's wit, to feel that if +she had only another opportunity she might learn the truth, force it +from him, constrain him to tell it, because she loved him! + + + + +XXVI + +ONCE MORE UNTO THE WORK + +The Martlet Bridge Company had finally weathered the storm, although +it was, of course, not intrusted with the new International Bridge +which was about to be commenced. When Bertram Meade read of the new +undertaking, it cut him to the heart. This time there would be no +mistake. In the necessity of recouping its fortunes, the Martlet +Bridge Company entered upon an even wider career. The directors took +contracts which they had hitherto disdained because they were +comparatively unimportant, and they bid on operations which they had +hitherto left to competitors. They cut the prices down to the lowest +limit to get work, to demonstrate that the company was still a force +to be reckoned with, a power to be considered in the engineering +problems of the world. + +They were building the great steel viaduct by the town of Coronado +below the dam, and they had already built the splendid steel arch +that spanned the ravine, here almost a gorge, in the valley of the +Kicking Horse to the eastward of the big mesa. + +After Christmas, Colonel Illingworth decided to make another of his +tours of inspection, and as Helen was not looking particularly well +from the strain under which she was laboring, he offered to take her +with him, especially as he was going to the far Southwest, where the +weather would be mild and pleasant, to inspect the growing viaduct +and the completed arch. She gladly availed herself of the +permission. There was always a possibility, albeit a most remote +one, that she might hear of Meade if she got in touch with +engineering works, and here was not one project but three! +Accordingly, feeling the value of his presence, she suggested to her +father, in view of the wide extent of the trip and the important +interest of engineering circles in the viaduct and dam and irrigation +project, that it might be well to invite a representative of _The +Engineering News_, to wit, Rodney, to accompany them, so that the +really splendid work the Martlet Company was doing to regain its +former high position might be made widely known. The party consisted +of the father and daughter, Curtiss, the chief engineer, Dr. +Severance, the vice-president and financial man, and Rodney. + +Now Helen Illingworth had not the least reason in the world to +suspect that Bertram Meade was in any way connected with this +engineering project, but Rodney had pointed out and had imbued her +with his own belief that sooner or later when Meade was found, he +would be found engaged in engineering in some capacity. + +"It's in his blood," said Rodney. "He can no more keep away from it +than he can stop breathing. He can't do anything else. Somewhere +he's at the old job. It might be in America, and it might be out +there at Coronado, or it might be in South America, Europe, Asia, +or----" + +"I wonder if we can't find out all the engineering work that is being +done in the world and send representatives to seek him," said Helen +Illingworth. + +Rodney laughed. + +"To hunt that way would be like hunting a needle in a haystack. I +cannot bid you hope that he is there; in fact I think it is most +unlikely that he would be any place near where the Martlet people are +operating, but there's a chance, even if only the faintest one." + +Well, women's hearts can build a great deal on a faint chance. They +are calculated for the forlorn hope. And so Helen Illingworth stood +on the steps of the private car as it rolled across the mile-long +temporary bridge at Coronado, and scanned the workmen grouped on one +side of the track, their work suspended for a moment that the train +might pass on the wooden trestling, in hope that she could see in one +of them the man she loved and sought. And Rodney stood by her side, +equally interested, searching the crowd with his glance, also. + +There was nothing in the town to attract Helen Illingworth out of the +car. She had visited West and Southwest many times. Colonel +Illingworth, with Rodney and Severence, there left the train. They +had, of course, business connected with the bridge which Rodney +wanted to see and report upon. Miss Illingworth decided to go into +the hills and get away from the arid and heated plains. A siding had +been built near the steel arch under the slope of the hill from which +the huge mesa arose. It would be pleasanter and quieter to +side-track the car there. The siding was within two miles of the dam +and the mesa was something to look at and something to climb. The +Kicking Horse ravine and the Picket Wire valley presented rather +attractive possibilities for exploration and adventure in their +pine-clad hills and the car was to be placed there. The men left +behind would use the private car of the division superintendent of +the railroad when they had ended their several tasks. + +It had been raining dismally during the afternoon and when the car +was detached and switched to the siding and left up in the hills some +twenty miles from the town, it was too wet and uncomfortable to leave +it. Disregarding the downpour, however, Curtiss, who had come up +with it, made a very careful investigation of the completed steel +arch bridge, which more than surpassed his expectations in its +appearance of sturdy grace, as well as in the evidences of careful +workmanship in its erection. + +That evening the special engine pushed the other private car up from +the valley, bringing the people who had inspected the bridge. A few +more weeks would complete the great viaduct. Everything was +proceeding in the most satisfactory way and Colonel Illingworth was +very much elated over the situation. + +"Who would have thought," he said as they sat down to dinner in the +brightly lighted observation room, "that it would rain in this +country at this season of the year?" + +"It will probably be over by tomorrow morning," observed Rodney. + +"If it continued long enough and rained hard enough that dam would +have to be looked after. We'll go over and see it tomorrow," said +the Colonel cheerfully. + +"What would happen if it gave way?" asked his daughter. + +"It would flood the valley, sweep away the town, and----" he paused. + +"Well, father?" + +"Ruin the bridge." + +"We can't afford to have another failure after the International," +said Severence. + +Now there was a newcomer at the table, a big rancher named Winters, +whom Rodney had met in the town and had introduced to Colonel +Illingworth. The latter had invited him to dinner and to stay the +night in the extra sleeper, and Winters, who had particular reasons +for wanting to talk with Rodney and to meet Miss Illingworth, had +accepted. + +"You can count on its stopping," he said at last. "My ranch is a +hundred miles to the north of here. I heard Rodney was with your +party and as he was an old classmate of mine, in fact my best friend +at Harvard along with Bert Meade"--and the mention of the forbidden +name caused quick glances to be passed around the table, but raised +no comment--"the chance of seeing him brought me down here. I know +the weather along this whole section of the country, it's the driest +place on earth, and I would almost offer to swallow all the rain that +will fall after this storm spends itself." + +"Well, that's good," said Curtiss, "because I've heard that the dam +lacks a very little of completion but that the spill-way has been +delayed." + +"You'll find that the storm has broken in the morning," said Winters +confidently. + +After dinner Colonel Illingworth, desirous of talking business, +called the men of the party, except Rodney and Winters, back into the +observation room of the other car, leaving the two men with Helen. + +"Mr. Shurtliff," said Helen, as the men stepped out on the platform, +the secretary following, since his employer had intimated his +services might be needed, "if you can, I wish you would come back +here as soon as possible." + +"Certainly, Miss Illingworth," said the secretary, "immediately, if +your father finds that he does not need me." + +"Rod," said Winters when they were alone, "I'd go a long way to see +you, but I might as well be frank. I did not come down these hundred +miles, leaving my ranch in the dead of winter with all its +possibilities of mishap to the cattle, simply to see you, or even +Miss Illingworth here, although she's worth it," he went on with the +frank bluntness of a Western man. + +"Of course, you didn't," said Rodney, smiling. "I know I'm not a +sufficient attraction." + +"I came to talk about Meade." + +"Mr. Winters," said Helen, clasping her hands over her knees and +leaning forward, "if you know anything about him, where he is, what +he is doing, how he fares, is he well, does he think of--I beg you to +tell me." + +"Miss Illingworth, there is nothing I would refuse to tell you if it +rested with me." + +"I don't mind confessing to you, you are such old friends, you and +Mr. Rodney, and so devoted to Bert, that I am worrying----" + +"You need say nothing more, Miss Illingworth. I know all about the +situation. Rodney wrote me and----" + +"Well then, you understand my anxiety, my reason for asking?" + +"I do." + +"And you will tell us?" + +"I wish to God I could." + +"Can't you tell us anything?" + +"Well, yes, I can." + +"What?" + +"It may be a breach of confidence." + +"I'd take the risk," said the girl, her bosom heaving. Was she at +last about to hear from her lover? + +"Know where he is, old man?" asked Rodney. + +"I think so, not sure, but----" + +"Where?" from the woman, breathlessly. + +"I didn't agree to tell you that." + +"What then?" + +"All I can say is that after the death of his father he turned up at +my ranch one day some five months ago and told me his story." + +"What!" exclaimed Rodney. "Did he tell you he was innocent?" + +"Not at first. He told me he was guilty." + +"But you didn't believe him, did you?" asked the woman impulsively. + +"I certainly did not." + +"Why not?" + +"Well, I don't know why. I just didn't, that's all. I know Meade. +I know him well. I know his makeup. We get accustomed to sizing up +a man's actions out West here and it didn't take me longer than it +took him to tell the story to know that it wasn't true." + +"Oh, thank you for that," said the woman. + +"But our beliefs are not evidence, Dick," interposed Rodney. + +"We can't prove it and that's the point, I told him," continued +Winters, "that it was a da--darned lie--I beg your pardon, Miss +Illingworth. I mean I told him that it was not true and that he was +a fool for sticking to it, and--er--he--admitted--I--er," floundered +Winters, suddenly realizing that he was on the eve of a breach of +confidence and checking himself just in time. "In fact the subject +was painful to him and I let him alone, which is what we generally do +to a man who doesn't want his affairs inquired into too closely," +Winters ended lamely, realizing how near he had come to betraying his +friend's confidence and telling of Meade's own admission that he had +said what he had to save the fame and honor of the father. + +"Well, what next?" asked Rodney, understanding as did Helen +Illingworth herself the ranchman's hesitation and respecting it, +although the unavoidable inference gave her great joy. + +"He hung around the ranch for a month or six weeks to get his +balance. He was pretty badly broken up. I'm a bachelor myself and +don't know much about those things, but I can say that he loved you, +Miss Illingworth, more than life itself." + +"But not more than the reputation of his father," she said with a +little tinge of bitterness. + +"Well, I take it he looked at that as a matter of honor. You know a +man's got to keep his ideals of honor." + +"Even at the expense of a woman's heart?" said the girl. + +"It sounds hard, but I guess we've got to admit that. But that's +neither here nor there," he continued, gliding over the subject, "the +point is I found that he had to fight it out himself and I mainly let +him alone. I gave him a horse and gun and turned him loose in the +wilds. Best place on earth for a man in his condition, Miss +Illingworth. You can go out into the wilderness and get nearer to +God there than any place I know of. He came back finally, turned in +his gun, borrowed the horse, bade me good-bye and said he was going +out to make a new start." + +"Where did he go? Which way?" + +"He was headed south when I saw him last, and all this lay in his +way." + +"You mean----?" cried the woman. + +"He may be here?" said Rodney. + +Winters nodded. + +"I have thought so. It's only a guess, of course, and probably a +poor one. But when I read in the papers that Colonel Illingworth was +coming out here and that you were along, and Miss Illingworth, I +thought I'd just take a run down here and see what could be done." + +"Oh, I'm so glad you have come." + +"He's not working on the bridge," said Rodney. + +"How do you know, Rod?" + +"I examined all the payrolls and none of them bears his name." + +"He wouldn't work under his own name in the Martlet Bridge Company," +said the woman. + +"Certainly not. That was only my first step. I went around among +the workmen, too, and I got a look at every one of them. I'm sure +he's not there." + +"He wouldn't be a common workman, would he?" asked the girl, more +disappointed than she could express. + +"Certainly not. He'd be keeping track of material, or running a +transit, or acting as a gang foreman. Most of the workmen are +foreigners, although the bridge erectors are Americans." + +"You're sure that he's not there?" + +"Absolutely." + +"There's the dam," said Winters. "We'll try that in the morning." + +"What good is it going to do us, Dick?" asked Rodney a little +irritably. "Even if we do find him, we can't make him speak." + +"I don't know," answered the woman slowly. "But if I could just see +him once again, Mr. Rodney"--she spoke without hesitation or reserve +and both men felt deeply for her--"if I could just speak to him, if +he would only----" + +"I believe you can persuade him," said Winters. + +"Yes, perhaps, but I want Shurtliff to speak first, then we can +approach our friend himself with more confidence," said Rodney. + + + + +XXVII + +BRUTE FORCE OR FINESSE + +"What do you want me to say, Mr. Rodney?" asked Shurtliff, coming +through the door, having caught Rodney's use of his name. + +"Oh, Shurtliff----" began Rodney, somewhat embarrassed at having been +overheard. + +"What do you want me to speak about?" continued the old man +suspiciously, not giving the younger man time to finish. "And what +friend can you then approach, sir?" + +"I'll tell you what I want," said Rodney. + +He quickly came to a decision. Standing up and facing the old man, +he staked everything on one bold throw. Grasping the situation, +Helen Illingworth held her breath. Winters moved to take his own +part in the game at the proper time. + +"What is it, sir?" asked the secretary. + +"Shut the door and come in," was the answer. + +Rodney spoke sharply and it was a sort of indication, characteristic +of the difference in station between an independent young man and a +subservient old man. + +"Here I am, sir," answered Shurtliff, closing the door and standing +before it. + +He shot a quick glance at the young woman. He observed her tense +position. He saw the emotions that filled her soul in her face and +bearing. All his old suspicions rose like a flood. For the moment +he no longer cared for her. He almost hated her. He looked from her +to the dark-faced, determined Rodney, to big, powerful, quiet +Winters. Was this a trap? Were they going to try to force him to +speak? He was a brave man, old Shurtliff, but his heart beat a +little faster as he faced them. He was quite master of himself, +though, cool, watchful, determined; in their eyes rather admirable +than otherwise. + +"The time has come for you to tell us the truth," began Rodney +emphatically. "You know that the whole blame and responsibility for +the failure of the International Bridge is loaded on the wrong man. +You know that you permitted, and even made possible, the sacrifice of +the reputation of the son for the sake of the fame of the father. +You know that this girl here is breaking her heart, that Meade's life +is ruined, and you're to blame. Now the time has come for you to +speak. We know as well as you that young Meade is innocent. Here's +our evidence." + +He drew a handful of papers from his breast pocket and shook them in +the face of the old man, who had shrunk back against the side of the +car and stood staring, white-faced, thin-lipped, close-mouthed, +inexorably resolved still. + +"Read them," continued Rodney. "I'll admit to you that the whole +thing would not be worth the paper it's written on in a court of law +or even in a newspaper report, but it's convincing to us and you can +make it convincing to everybody. You've got to speak." + +"Do you think, sir, that there's any power in your stretched out arm +or in your rude voice or in your threatening gesture to make me +speak?" + +"By the Lord," exclaimed Winters, suddenly whipping out a Colt's +forty-five from the holster at his belt--he was dressed just as he +had been when he rode away from the ranch--"out West we've got ways +for persuading men to speak and this is one of them." + +Winters was a bigger man than Rodney. His life had been wild and +rough and his manner when he wanted was according. He would fain add +physical compulsion under threat of death to Rodney's mental +insistence. + +"And do you think, sir, that I'm afraid of any lethal weapon you can +produce or even use, any more than I am of Mr. Rodney's words?" The +old man's eyes flashed and his knees shook, but he had all the spirit +of a soldier as he looked into Winters' stern face, full of threat +and menace. His thin voice took on a certain quality of courage. It +even rang a little. His courage was mainly moral, but there was some +accompanying physical hardihood, that was undoubted. "You can beat +me, you can even kill me, if you wish, but you can't make me say a +word I don't want to say of my own free will," he cried out at last, +his voice strangely rising. + +"Gentlemen, gentlemen," said Helen Illingworth, rising and swiftly +interposing between the secretary and the two angry men. She +realized that the affair had gone far enough and that she must +intervene. They had certainly failed lamentably, almost ludicrously. +"You are wrong to threaten Mr. Shurtliff. He is old enough to be the +father of either of you. Drop your arm, Mr. Rodney. Put up that +pistol, Mr. Winters. Mr. Shurtliff," said the girl quickly, "as I am +in a certain sense your hostess and as you are in a certain sense my +guest here, I apologize to you for the improper and impulsive conduct +of these young men. They love Bertram Meade dearly as I do. Let +that be their excuse. Meanwhile, they will apologize to you here and +now, I am sure." + +There was a moment of silence. Rodney and Winters stared at each +other and both looked at the girl, confronting them so confidently in +her superb and beautiful way. Winters smiled a little shamefacedly +as he shoved his gun back into its holster. His had indeed been the +greater offense. + +"Mr. Winters, Mr. Rodney," said the girl insistently. + +"Oh, I apologize. I suppose it was wrong to threaten him," said +Rodney disgustedly. + +"Hang it," said Winters, now utterly forgetful of conventions, "it +wasn't the thing to do to draw a gun on a little, old man and I'm +sorry I did it." + +"And now that we've apologized you'll tell us the truth, won't you?" +asked Rodney swiftly, with no appreciable change of manner. + +"Yes, we beg it now, humbly," chimed in Winters, with anything but an +humble air or voice. + +"I won't have Mr. Shurtliff even appealed to now," said Miss +Illingworth. "You have threatened him and you have apologized. +Whether he forgives you or not is for him to decide, but he shall not +be worried, or questioned, or insulted any more." + +"Thank you, Miss Illingworth. I came for that book on the desk; your +father wants it," said Shurtliff grimly, bowing slightly to her. + +He stepped a little tremblingly--the scene had been unnerving--past +the young men, picked up the book, bowed again formally and +unmistakably to Miss Illingworth alone, and went out of the car. The +honors of the encounter were certainly his. + +"Well, Miss Illingworth," said Winters, "I don't know whether you +made a mistake or not. I think I could have scared it out of him +with this little persuader of mine----" He tapped the butt of the +pistol. + +"You couldn't have done it if you had killed him," said the woman, +who had read the old secretary correctly. "He isn't what I call a +daring man, but he has courage that would take him to the stake +rather than make him give way, the courage of endurance rather than +of action. When he speaks, if he ever does, it will be of his own +free will." + +"Or because you may persuade him," said Rodney. "By Jove, when I +think it over it was the finest thing you ever did." + +"Bert Meade's a lucky fellow," said Winters. "You're the kind of a +girl that ought to marry out West, where we try to breed men that +will match up." + +Helen Illingworth laughed a little, although she felt no inclination +to merriment. + +"That's a fine compliment," she said. "Well, this has rather shaken +me and I'm going to ask you gentlemen to excuse me." + +"We'll see if he is working on the dam tomorrow." + +"You will stay all night, Mr. Winters?" + +"Your father invited me to take a bunk in his car and to be perfectly +frank with you I'd sleep out in the open rain rather than miss a +chance of being in on the end of a game like this." + +The girl bowed and left them. + +"Dick," said Rodney slowly at last as the two sat smoking together in +the silence of complete understanding and good comradeship, which +requires no expression in talk, "you're not the only man who thinks +that girl would be a good wife to a man." + +"Ah," said Winters, "sits the wind in that quarter, Rod?" + +"Yes," answered the other, "but I'm fighting this thing through for +Meade." + +"Well, by George," said the big ranchman, "you're as good a man as +Meade any day, fine fellow as he is. I wish I had some chance to get +in on this game and make myself worthy of the two of you, let alone +the lady." + +It was a rare confidence that Rodney had vouchsafed to his friend, +and like every other Anglo-Saxon, having said his say he did not wish +to discuss it further. + +"Do you know," he began, changing the subject abruptly, "I think +things have turned out pretty well in spite of our foolishness a +while ago. I believe if there's a spark of human gratitude in +Shurtliff's heart the girl's interposition when you and I were +threatening him, and her refusal to allow him to be questioned later, +will fan it into a flame. And I have an idea that when he thinks it +over he'll be about ready to tell." + +"Are you sure he has anything to tell?" + +"Certain." + +"Well, I guess you're right. It sort of consoles me for having drawn +my gun, without using it, too. And if he tells in the morning and we +find Meade everything will be lovely." + +"For everybody but me," said Rodney. + +"I'll tell you what, old man, when this thing's over you're coming +out to spend the rest of the winter with me on the ranch. It's the +greatest place on earth for a man to buck up. There's no woman +within fifty miles." + +Rodney laughed a little grimly. + +"I'll go you," he said. + + + + +XXVIII + +THE BATTLE FROM ABOVE + +The rain had stopped by morning, to the great relief of Colonel +Illingworth, Severence and Curtiss, and the satisfaction of Helen +Illingworth. There was little sun to dry the big, red sandstone +mesa, its sides seamed into fantastic shapes, which rose grandly +between the valley of the Picket Wire and the ravine of the Kicking +Horse, and which the young woman intended to cross in her walk toward +the dam with Rodney and Winters. The siding near the steel arch +bridge was close to the rock wall of the ravine, which here had been +so scoured out of the rocky side of the mesa by torrents of other +days that it could fairly be called a gorge. Consequently the bank +of clouds above the horizon to the northwest was hid behind the big +butte from the occupants of the two private cars. Although the day +did not promise to be fair, they had no idea of the further threat of +storm presaged by the black masses to the northwest. + +In sandy, porous soils such as here prevailed the rain is absorbed +quickly. They could traverse the trails carpeted with the needles of +centuries that ran through the dripping pines without getting muddy +and with nothing more to fear than a wetting. Colonel Illingworth, +Severence, and Curtiss announced their intention of going back to the +town to continue their consultations and observations concerning the +progress of work on the bridge. Shurtliff, who went about his +business gravely reserved, frigidly cold and self-contained, had work +to do at his desk. The woman and the two young men were for the dam. + +After an early breakfast, therefore, the second car was uncoupled and +the engine backed it down around the mesa toward the viaduct twenty +miles below. Rodney and Winters prepared to go with Miss Illingworth +across the wooded island, with its cresting of stone, so to speak, +that lay between the ravine and the valley. The conductor of the +train, a local employee of the railroad, told them that the shortest +way was directly over the mesa. The sandstone of which this huge +mound was mainly composed had been broken and disintegrated on all +sides by centuries of erosion and weathering and there were +practicable ascents and descents at both ends. The nearest ascent +was at the side of the big tableland directly opposite which the car +was placed. + +The trails through the pines which covered the hill up to the very +foot of the big butte were unfrequented and in bad repair, but +practicable if the traveler was prepared for a wetting. The shortest +and on the whole the easiest way to the dam would be to make their +way to the foot of the mesa, climb it through the big ravine and +cross it to the lower end, less than two miles away, where there was +an easy descent to the dam. + +"And if you get caught in the rain," said the conductor, "which ain't +likely, for it's already rained more in the last twenty-four hours +than in the last twenty-four years, it seems to me, there's a hut, +half stone and half timber, up on the mesa that campers sometimes +make use of when they want to see the sun rise, which is a mighty +fine sight from there. It was in pretty fair shape when I visited it +last year and you can find shelter there. It's at the highest point +on the mesa. You can see a long way up the gulch there, and a longer +way down and up the Picket Wire valley. Above the dam it used to +show a level, fertile stretch between the hills, but it's all a lake +now." + +Shurtliff, of course, declined Miss Illingworth's invitation to +accompany the party on plea of urgent duties and important papers to +prepare. He had spoken no words to Rodney or Winters, and those +gentlemen made no effort to engage him in conversation. They were, +in truth, a little ashamed of their actions of the night before. +They were exceedingly anxious as to whether their theories as to the +possible effect of Miss Illingworth's action would be justified, so +they carefully avoided the secretary, letting the leaven work if it +would. To their disappointment it gave no sign of life or action. + +Of the four most interested in Meade, Winters was the only one who +had slept soundly that night. Rodney was too much in love with the +woman ever to sleep soundly again, he thought, certainly not until +her future had been settled and her relations to Meade finally +determined. Shurtliff's feelings were painful in the extreme. Torn +between the old habit of affection for the dead, his new habit of +affection for the woman, his oft recurring compunction of conscience, +his immediate resentment of the treatment of the two men, his +acknowledgment of the splendid action of the woman, his suspicions, +his uncertainty, as to how the younger Meade would take it if he told +the truth, he slept not at all. + +Into Helen Illingworth's mind also had come, although to her credit +be it said not until she had retired and had thought over her action +in the light of the hints given, that perhaps her generous +interposition in behalf of Shurtliff might move his gratitude and +that he might at last vouchsafe her the help which she felt more +certain than ever he alone could give. She was glad when the thought +came to her that she could look herself squarely in the face and +declare to her conscience that it had not been back of her action, +which had been purely spontaneous. + +The possibility, although a faint one, that Meade might be working on +the dam and that she might see him on the morrow would have sufficed +to give her a wakeful night, Rodney was a more careful observer than +Winters, but even the cattleman noticed that she looked worn and +strained as he helped her out of the car for their tramp across the +mesa to the dam. + +"You know," he said, with rough and ready sympathy, "we haven't the +least assurance that Meade is there. It's only a chance, and +probably a long one." + +"I shall never rest until it is decided absolutely one way or the +other," said the woman. + +"Well, I'm not much of a walker," said the cattleman. "I generally +prefer to get over the ground astride of a broncho, but I guess I can +keep up with the party for two miles, if that's the distance." + +It was dark and damp and wet under the pines. As the conductor had +said, the trail was an execrable one. Although the two men cleared +the way for her, holding branches back and shaking the water off the +drooping boughs, it was well Helen Illingworth was protected from the +wet. She had tramped hills and mountains many a time, camp and +forest were familiar to her. She wore a short-skirted dress, stout +boots and leggings, and a yellow western slicker. + +The exertion of the upward climb, stumbling over broken branches and +uprooted logs and floundering through boggy places on the trail, +brought a touch of color to her face, and though damp, the air sweet +and fragrant, clean and pure, refreshed and pleased her greatly; the +men, too. It was a hard pull and she was out of breath when she +reached the broken coulee, or ravine, which led to the top of the big +red sandstone plateau. + +"I'm terribly out of practice," she said to the two men, "but I don't +believe I'm in any worse state than you are, Mr. Winters." + +"I told you I wasn't any good on foot," said Winters, who was blowing +like a grampus. + +Rodney laughed at the two of them. + +"Look at me," he said. "I'm as fresh as when I began." + +"Well, you're used to walking," returned Winters. "It's this +plugging along this broken trail that has knocked us out. The rich, +they ride on--bronchos, you know." + +"When we get on top of the mesa we will find it easier going," said +Rodney encouragingly. + +"Let us start," said the girl, suddenly serious, as she thought what +might be at the end of the journey. + +"Before we go any further," said Winters, staring up the ravine at +the sky which showed above it, "just take a look at that." + +He pointed to the black clouds rapidly rising, apparently against the +wind, which swayed rather violently the tops of the tallest pines, +although they were protected and in comparative quiet where they +stood in the ravine. + +"It looks as if there were more rain there," said Rodney. + +"It's incredible," answered Winters, "after what we've had." + +"But it certainly is coming down again and if I'm any judge it will +be another cloudburst." + +"Perhaps we'd better go back," suggested Winters to Miss Illingworth. + +"Go back!" exclaimed the girl. "When I'm as near as this?" + +"But it's only a possibility, you know." + +"Possibility or not it would take a deluge in my path to stop me. +Come." + +She stepped toward the broken ravine. Rodney sprang before her. +Winters brought up the rear. It was an entirely practicable climb, +but rather a hard one on the wet, crumbling rocks. It did not take +the three young people long to surmount the difficulties, however, +and after a few minutes they stood on top of the mesa. It was bare +of vegetation, save in scattered little earth pockets, grass-covered, +where dwarfed pines grew, stunted trees centuries old. Its general +surface was level, but the upturned expanse was seamed and guttered +in every direction like the wrinkles in a face that had confronted +the sky for how many thousand years no one knew, for the rock was the +early old red sandstone of the triassic period. + +Near at hand was the hut of which the conductor had spoken. It stood +upon a little rise above the general level and from it one could +obviously see far in every direction. There ran valley and gorge, +there extended the high waters of the new-made lake, already dark +under the clouds. Before them rose hill on hill, each overtowering +the others until they merged into the high-land of the great +rampart-like range, its serrated peaks showing whiter their crowns of +snow against the blackness of the heavens. Between the hills and +over the lower crest of Baldwin's Knob they could even see dimly the +far-off plains, a little sickly yellow light still lingering there +before the advance of the storm. + +The hut was made of stone and logs. The doors and windows had long +since vanished and the broad eaves overhanging the walls were rotting +away, but the inside they found upon inspection was fairly dry. They +had not any more than reached it before the storm began. Claps of +thunder, flashes of lightning under which the army on the dam were +fighting, were heard and seen with tenfold clearness by the little +group on the huge upland. + +It was a sight to awe the very soul of humanity. Miles and miles +down the mountain side and among the hills the whirling battalions of +clouds rolled and tumbled and tossed and clashed like aerial armies. +The lightning, while it was not in sheets, was practically +continuous, flash succeeding flash in uncountable and blinding +succession. Again they noticed the strange coruscating, bursting +effect as bolt after bolt apparently struck some granite ledge and +was then thrown back in splinters of fire. The heavy awful roll of +the thunder was continuous and terrific. + +They stood staring through door and windows in silence, Meade and +their quest forgot in the appalling tempest by all except the woman. +It was she who recalled them. + +"Let us hasten on," she said, and she had almost to scream to make +herself heard in the wild tumult. "It's magnificent, wonderful, +but----" + +As a matter of fact all the manifestations of nature at its grandest +would not have sufficed to turn her head away from her lover's face +if she could have seen him. + +"You can't go now," said Winters decisively, "the rain's bad enough +as it is and that cloud will burst in a minute. Old Noah's flood +won't be a circumstance to it." + +"I'm protected from the rain," she answered. + +Winters shook his head. + +"The weight of it would almost beat you down, Miss Illingworth." + +"I haven't had any experience with it, but I think Winters is right," +said Rodney. + +"I'll go on alone, then," said the girl passionately, stepping out of +the house, "if you gentlemen don't care to come." + +The next moment, with a culminating scream like the shriek of all the +lost souls of creation heard above the furious detonating roll of the +thunder, the wind added its quota to the demonstration of natural +force, and now the rain fairly dropped upon them in apparently solid +sheets. Of course clouds do not burst. Such a thing is +scientifically and meteorologically impossible, but anyone who has +ever experienced the suddenness and fury and weight of a western +deluge in a normally dry land will understand the term. The wind +swept over the plateau where it had free course like a hurricane; the +rain came down in masses apparently. Until their eyes became +accustomed to it, the falling water blotted out the landscape. + +The woman was hurled against the side of the house by the sudden and +violent assault of the hurricane. The two men half dragged, half +carried her around to the lee side of the cabin. The roof of the hut +had given way here and there, and within it was soon flooded. Where +they stood, however, by chance happened to be the solidest part of +the overhang of the roof and they were in some degree protected, that +is from the direct violence of the downpour. They were, of course, +drenched in a few minutes in spite of their raincoats. With one man +on either side of her to give her as much protection as possible, the +woman leaned against the stone wall and stared through the rain down +the valley, seeking to see the dam, perhaps a mile and a half away. +Of course the maximum of the downpour could not last any more than +the maximum of the gale, but the deluge was succeeded by a heavy +driving rain still swept on by a strong wind. + +Below the mesa the lake was whipped into foam by the beat of the rain +and rolled into waves by the assault of the wind. All three of them +knew what this deluge portended. The downpour would raise the level +of the lake so that it would overflow the dam, which would be swept +away, the valley would be inundated by a flood, like a tidal wave, +the incompleted viaduct would be ruined, the town would be +overwhelmed, the loss of life and property would be appalling. + +"The spill-way ought to take it," shouted Winters, knowing what was +in the minds of the other two by what was in his own. + +"It's not finished," roared Rodney. + +Winters threw up his hands. + +"Will the dam hold it?" cried the woman, understanding. + +"Until the water rises above it. Just as soon as it begins to wash +over it will go, and the quicker for these waves," answered Rodney at +the top of his voice. + +"And the bridge and the town," screamed the woman. + +"They, too." + +"And father?" + +"He'll be all right, they've had warning. The engineers on the dam +must know the danger now. They're working like mad." + +He had brought a small six-power field glass with him and he was +straining his eyes through it. The violence of rain and wind had +sensibly abated, although it was still coming down in torrents. With +his knowledge of what would probably be attempted, Rodney was able to +see through his glass something of what was being done even at that +distance. + +"They're building palisades on top of the dam and backing it with an +earth mound. See, they are dropping sand bags over," he stated, +handing the glass to the other man. + +"By heaven," shouted Winters, "they're making a magnificent fight." + +In his excitement he left the shelter of the hut and stalked through +the rain toward the edge of the mesa, where he could have a better +and nearer view. In spite of Rodney's remonstrances, even though +backed by his outstretched arm, the woman followed. Presently all +three, indifferent to the beat of the rain and the assault of the +wind, stood watching the battle on the dam. It was abating still +more, fortunately, or else they could scarcely have sustained the +attack of that wind and rain, nor could they have seen at all, even +with that glass. + +Staring down at the dam after a moment Helen Illingworth took the +glass from Rodney. She focused it rapidly and looked steadily +through it. She knew what she was seeking as she stood steadying +herself with splendid nerve and resolution and swept the length of +the dam back and forth. + +"I don't see him. He's not there," she said at last, handing the +glass back to its owner. + +"If he were there, you'd see him all right," said Winters +enthusiastically, "because he'd be in the thick of the fight." + +"I doubt if you can recognize anyone even through the glass, at such +a distance," said Rodney, after he had focused it and taken a look +himself. "Yet if he were there he certainly would be in the thick of +it. He's that kind. You look, Dick." + +"I can't see him," said Winters in turn. "But what a fight they are +making to save that dam." + +"Will it hold?" asked the woman. + +"Impossible," said Rodney. + +"I give it one hour," said Winters, handing over the glass. + +"Not more than that," assented the other, after another look. "See +for yourself, Miss Illingworth." + +From where they stood high up on the roof of the world they were +spectators of a great battle, witnesses of a terrible contest, in +which herculean effort, desperate courage, human will, all exerted to +the limit, finally degenerated into blind, mechanical habit of +continuous and frenzied endeavor. The spirit of reckless continuance +had got into them and moved them to the impossible. As men in a +battle-charge go on even with wounds enough to kill them in ordinary +circumstances, as soldiers at Winchester, though shot in the heart, +actually struggled after Sheridan until they fell, or even as a +common horse may so be imbued with blind intensity of determination +that he gallops on until he drops dead, so these men gave their all +in unmatchable persistence. + +"They'd better get off that dam," said Rodney. "When it once fails +it'll go with a rush and then it'll be too late." + +"Look at them. They're not going to get off," said Winters. +"They're going down with it. Damned fools, God bless 'em!" he +shouted, throwing up his arms in exultation over manhood and courage +and determination. + +"Perhaps you had better go back, Miss Illingworth," said Rodney, +thinking of the horror she might witness at any moment. + +"I wouldn't be elsewhere for the world," said the brave girl, white +but with firm lips--she was made of the same stuff as the fighting +men, it seemed--"Even if he were there, fighting that great battle, I +should wait to see the end." + +"We're not the only people in this wilderness. Look yonder!" cried +Winters. + +He pointed down through the ceaseless rain toward the lower edge of +the mesa. There far below him were three sodden figures. The water +in the lake had risen so that it had overflowed the lowlands, it had +flooded the slope of the hill and on that side it was lapping the +base of the cliff. The trail had, of course, been covered and there +was no way of progress except by taking advantage of the broken rock +at the foot of the cliff, which here and there still stood above the +water. It was a place apparently where men could only pass by +carefully choosing their way and calculating the distance of the next +point toward which to leap. + +These three were moving like madmen, splashing through the water, +hurling themselves from rock to rock, falling against the wall, +clutching a tree or shrub, slipping into the lake, saving themselves +from drowning apparently only by the caprice of complacent fortune, +which they were trying to the utmost limit. They had raincoats on; +two of them, however, had lost their hats, the light slicker of the +last one was torn to rags; the first stopped a moment, jerked off his +coat, and went on without it as if the stiff and sodden garment +impeded his action. + +One man carried a miner's pick, a spade and a surveyor's range pole, +the other another spade and two long stakes which looked like the +separate legs of a tripod. The bareheaded man, who had thrown his +rubber coat down in the reddish-yellow water, carried a good-sized +oilskin bag. He was the most hurried of the three. He ran some +distance in front of the others. They noticed how carefully he +sought to protect the bag. When he slipped or seemed about to fall +he always thrust it frantically away from the rock with outstretched +arm. + +What the three men would be at of course no one knew. It was obvious +that they were in a desperate hurry and that the thing in the bag +must be carefully carried. Naturally the watchers connected the men +with the dam builders. They were dressed as the men engaged in such +labor would be dressed. The pick, the spades, and the pole and +stakes bore out that conclusion. + +"What's in the bag?" asked the woman. + +"He carries it as though it might be gold or diamonds," said Winters. + +Rodney shook his head. Suddenly he divined the reason for the +extreme care with which the bag was carried. The men were +immediately below the three watchers now. He could make out pretty +well what was the size and shape of the objects that bulged the +waterproof bag. + +"I have it," he shouted. "Dynamite." + +"What for?" + +Rodney shook his head again. The man in front was in plain view. He +was a tall figure, his face was heavily bearded. From the angle at +which they saw him it was impossible for them to recognize him, nor +was he in his frantic progress assuming the usual attitude and +bearing of a man under ordinary conditions which sometimes betray him +to those who know him well. Nor could Helen Illingworth with her +trembling hands focus the glass, which she took from Rodney before +the struggling adventurers had passed; and yet there was something in +the figure below that made her heart beat faster. + +She pressed her hand to the wet garments over her heart and stared. +Suddenly Rodney raised his voice and shouted at the very top of it. +Winters joined in and even Helen Illingworth found herself screaming. +The three men below were not more than five or six hundred feet away, +but evidently they could not possibly hear in that tumult of nature. +No voices would carry through any such rain and wind. They were too +intent on their paths and on what they had to do to look upward. +They rounded the shoulder of the mesa and disappeared in the pines at +its feet. + +The three on the top looked at each other. + +"The dam still holds," said Rodney, quite unsuspecting what was in +the woman's heart. + +Even as he spoke Helen Illingworth turned away. She ran heavily in +her sodden garments along the broken mesa top past the house to the +upper edge. There below her were the three men just emerging from +the fringe of trees. Rounding the end of the mesa they had at last +struck firmer ground. Helen Illingworth could see them through the +pines on the old trail. The going was bad enough, but it was nothing +compared to what they had passed over and presently they burst out of +the woods and ran along the greasy, well-rounded hog-back that +divided the valley from the ravine. + +The woman had no idea what was toward, what was their purpose. She +could only stare and stare at the rapidly moving far-off figure +indomitably in the lead and the others following after. There +Winters joined her. + +"Rodney sent me to look after you; he feels that he must stay back +and watch the dam for his paper." + +"Look," said Helen, pointing far down. The men halted at the very +narrowest part of the hog-back. They were clustered together. The +bag lay on the ground behind them. One man bent over it, evidently +opening it. Another man swung the shovel viciously, the third +grabbed the pick. Winters had been too far removed from engineering +even yet to figure out what was toward. They could only watch and +wonder. + + + + +XXIX + +THE VICTORS + +Meade knew that they were fighting a losing battle. Every one of the +higher grade men knew it also. The spill-way was entirely +inadequate, but it suddenly flashed into his mind, with that +consciousness of the hopelessness of the struggle, that perhaps there +was another way to discharge the flood. The same idea might have +come to any other of the more intelligent of the men from Vandeventer +down if they had taken a moment for reflection. If they had not been +so frantically, so frightfully engrossed in their present puny but +gallant efforts to save the dam they certainly would have remembered. +That the possibility came to Meade rather than to any of the others +was perhaps due to the fact that he had noted the situation later and +had studied the conditions more recently. Those solitary rambles of +his, those careful inspections of the terrain of the valley, had been +made long after the original surveys and the results of his +observations were still fresh in his mind. + +The water was rising so rapidly since the cloudburst and he saw the +inevitableness of the failure so clearly that he did not dare to +waste time to look up Vandeventer, tell him his plan and get his +permission. Every second was of the utmost value. When the thought +came he acted instantly. He was in the position of the commander of +a small force to whom is suddenly presented the bare possibility of +wresting victory from defeat by some splendidly daring and unforeseen +undertaking. And he was the man to seize such a possibility and make +the most of it. + +It was well that he had endeared himself to some of the men and that +the respect in which he was held by Vandeventer was shared by the +others. Indeed perhaps the men under a man are quicker to estimate +his character and worth than those over him. Therefore when Meade +called two of the most capable of the workmen, a big, burly Irishman +and a stout little Italian, to follow him they did it without a +moment's hesitation. + +"The rest of you keep on here," he shouted as he left the gang. +"Murphy and Funaro, come with me. Keep it up; I think I know a way +to help," he yelled back through the rain as he scrambled off the dam +up the rocks to the spill-way. It was not his fault that they could +not hear and could not understand. + +The water was rushing through the spill-way about knee deep and the +three men plunging forward through it had difficulty in keeping their +footing on the broken, rocky bottom. When they reached the other +side, Meade shouted above the storm: + +"Murphy, bring your pick and shovel; take that iron range pole, too. +Here, Funaro, you take your shovel and these." + +As he spoke he ran into the office shack and wrecked a transit +tripod, ruthlessly separating the legs from one another by main force +and pitching two of them into the little Italian's outstretched arms. + +Without a question both men complied with his direction. In a huge +crevice, almost a small cave, in the spur of the mesa which overhung +the east end of the dam the explosives were stored. The dynamite was +kept in oilskin bags, the detonating caps in waterproof boxes. There +were sixteen sticks or cartridges in each bag. Each stick was an +inch and a half in diameter and eight inches long. One bagful should +be ample. Indeed if that did not do the work the attempt would fail. + +The men waited while Meade selected a bag of dynamite, a box of +detonators, and a package of fuses. It was a cardinal rule that +dynamite cartridges and detonating caps should never be carried by +the same person, because the combination so greatly increased the +risk of premature explosion. The fulminate of mercury in the +detonators was very volatile, highly explosive and immensely +destructive considering its size. One such cap could blow off a +man's hand or even his head and in its explosion might detonate the +dynamite. Hence the separation when being carried. + +Meade decided to take that risk. He knew how perilous was the +undertaking, how liable he was in his hurry to fall against the +rocks, slippery and half submerged in that pouring rain. He knew +what the consequences of such a fall would be. He would center all +risks in himself. He thrust the box of detonators in his pocket, the +package of fuses inside his flannel shirt, and carried the dynamite +bag in his hand. He would need his free hand to protect himself, so +all the tools were carried by the other men. + +The little Italian shook his head as he noted these preparations. He +happened to be one of the explosive force, those whose duty it was to +do the blasting. In his practical way he knew a great deal about the +properties and possibilities of usefulness of the dynamite. Meade's +purpose was obvious even to Murphy, who was only a laborer, though +where he proposed to work neither man had any idea at all. + +"Dynamita no work in zis weather," said Funaro impressively. + +"Probably not," answered Meade, hurrying his preparations, "but it's +our only chance." + +"Give me ze caps," urged the Italian gallantly. + +"No, I'll take both." + +"It ees danger." + +"Yes, but come on." + +Meade, wasting no more words, sprang at what was left of the trail +and the two men gallantly followed him. The hog-back at which he was +aiming was perhaps a little more than two miles from the dam. On the +ordinary trail and prepared for the run he could have managed it in +fifteen minutes; as it was they made it in thirty. The extreme +possibility of the life of the dam seemed to Meade not much greater. +He went in the lead and by his direction the others kept some +distance behind him. + +"If I fall and explode this dynamite there's no need of all three of +us being blown up," he had said, and it was no reflection on their +courage that they complied with his direction. + +Indeed a stern command was necessary to keep the two men back. They +had caught something of the gallant spirit of the engineer and the +big Irishman and the little Italian were as eager as he. Helped by a +few hasty words as they ran, they had both of them learned what he +would be at. They both realized that they were the forlorn hope, +that if they could not save the dam nobody and nothing could. And +there was a trace of the age-long rivalry between the Celt and the +Roman. The scion of the legionary and the son of the barbarian who +had fought together in the dawn of history vied with each other then. +Again and again Meade had to order them back. He was keenly sensible +of his danger. He knew that if he fell, if the dynamite struck the +ground violently, it might explode. He knew that the unstable +fulminate of mercury in the detonators might go off at any +time--perhaps that was the greater danger--but he never checked his +pace or hesitated in a leap or sought an easy way for a second. His +soul was rising and his heart was beating as they had never risen or +beaten in his life. And the hearts of his men beat with his own. + +He knew, of course, if the dam went out the railroad, the bridge, the +town, the citizens, the women and children, and everything and +everybody would go. If he could save them his act might be set off +against the loss of the International. But whether that were true or +not, whatever the consequences to him, he was bound to save them. +The weight of every man, the weight of every woman, the weight of +every child in the valley, the weight of all the business enterprises +of the town, the weight of the great viaduct of steel, the weight of +the huge dam itself, was on his shoulders as he ran. He carried the +burden lightly, as Atlas might have upborne the world with laughter. +For despite his determination and haste he had in his heart the great +joy that comes when men attempt grandly and dare greatly for their +fellow-men. If he could only by and by see his hopes justified by +success his happiness would be complete. + +And there were thoughts personal as well as general. If he died, +whether successful or not, men would tell about his endeavor. She +would hear. It came to him afterward, when he learned how she had +looked down upon him as he ran, that he had somehow felt her +presence, not a presence impelling him to look up, but a presence +driving him on. He lost his hat, he tore off his long coat and threw +it aside as he plunged on with his precious bag in his hand. He did +not dare to look at his watch, he did not stop for anything, but it +seemed that he must have spent hours in that mad scramble over the +water-covered rocks. He heaved a deep breath of relief when he +rounded the mesa and struck the trail. Bad as was the going, it was +nothing to what they had passed over. + +Presently he broke out into the open slope and there before him was +the rounded curve of the hog-back, to gain which he had risked so +much. Were they in time? Yes, the water in the lake was not +flowing, it was only rising. Evidently the dam still held. He ran +along it till he reached the narrowest part of it, twenty feet wide +between water-covered valley and sharply descending ravine. The +shortest separation between Picket Wire and the Kicking Horse! The +water in the lake was within three feet of the crest. The rain was +coming down steadily. He could realize by the water level where he +stood that it must be lapping the top of the dam now, or a little +above it. He had five minutes, ten at most. He was still in time. +The thoughts came to him as he ran. And as he saw the place again he +made his instant plan. + +He laid the dynamite down just as Murphy and Funaro reached him and +stood panting, their heavy breathing, the sweat mingling with the +rain in their wet faces, evidencing their exhaustion. From Murphy, +who had been the faster, Meade took the two tripod legs, stout oak +staves about an inch and a half thick with sharp metal points. He +jammed them down into the ground about five feet from the edge of the +Kicking Horse ravine and about fifteen feet apart. + +"Holes, there," he shouted, "deep enough for five cartridges." + +Funaro nodded. He knew exactly what to do. Murphy had often seen +the explosive gang at work. He was quick-witted and he had only to +follow the Italian's actions. The work was simple. Seizing their +spades the two men cut into the sod, using the pick to dislodge small +bowlders and break up the earth. The soil was light and porous and +it had been well soaked by the rain. After they had made an +excavation about two feet deep they laid aside their shovels and with +the iron range pole as a starter and the bigger tripod stakes to +follow they made two deep holes in the ground, forcing the pole and +then the stake into the earth, which the continuing rain tended to +soften more and more. They made these holes about four feet deep +below the excavation, driving in and twisting and churning the stakes +by main strength. + +They could by no means have accomplished this save for the softening +assistance of the rain and the furious energy they applied. They had +been working since four in the morning at the dam, they had made that +difficult run at headlong speed, yet they labored like men possessed. +They even wasted breath to call challengingly and provokingly and to +set forth their progress each to the other. In almost less time than +it takes to tell it they had completed the holes and so informed the +engineer triumphantly. + +Meade, as usual, had reserved to himself the more dangerous, if less +arduous task. Covering himself with big Murphy's discarded slicker, +which fell over him like a shelter tent as he knelt down, he opened +the box of detonators, selected one and attached the fuse in position +carefully. Then he unfolded the paper about one of the cartridges +and placed the detonator, wrapping the paper around it thereafter. +He prepared two cartridges this way with the greatest care. + +The holes now being ready, the men rapidly but carefully cut slits in +the covering of the cartridges and lowered four cartridges down each +hole, forcing them gently into place with the butt ends of the tripod +stakes and compressing them so that they filled the holes completely. +Then Meade placed his two prepared sticks with the detonators on top +of the other four. He cut the fuse to the proper length in each case +and, keeping it carefully covered with the raincoat, he held it while +the others filled in the holes and the excavations and carefully +tamped down the earth. All that remained was the lighting of the +fuse. And then? Would the dynamite go off? With fuses it was +uncertain in its action at best, and although these fuses were +supposed to be so prepared as to be independent of weather +conditions, more often than not rain spoiled a blast. If this blast +failed it was good-by dam--good-by everything. + +Meade drew out from the pocket of his flannel shirt a box of matches. +He had to light the farther cartridge fuse, then run fifteen feet and +light the nearer one, and then make his escape. He had made the +nearer fuse a little shorter so as to secure a simultaneous explosion +if possible. + +Tony Funaro now interposed gallantly. + +"Giva me da light," he demanded, extending his hand. + +"G'wan wid ye," shouted the big Irishman eagerly; "lemme do it, sor." + +"Stand back, both of you," cried Meade, succeeding after some trouble +in striking a match. + +He had cut off a short length fuse for a torch, the better to carry +the fire from one blast to another. As it sputtered into flame he +touched the first fuse, then the second and turned and ran for his +life after Murphy and Funaro. They had just got a safe distance away +when with a muffled roar the two blasts went off nearly together. +When they ran back they saw that two-thirds of the hillock on that +side of the ravine had gone. A wall of earth through which water was +already trickling rose between the great gap they had blown out and +the lake, the upper level of which was much higher than the bottom of +the great crater they had opened. + +"Hurrah," yelled Meade, the others joining in his triumphant shout. +"Now, men, another hole right there," he pointed to the foot of the +bank. "Drive it in slanting and it will do the job." + +"Will the dam be after holdin' yit, sor?" asked Mike Murphy, seizing +his pick. + +"I hope so, but for God's sake, hurry." + +With two men working the last hole was completed before Meade was +ready. Funaro, indeed, came to his assistance in preparing the +cartridge. Presently all was completed. Rejecting the pleas of both +men, Meade struck the match and this time, since there was but one +blast to be fired, he touched it directly to the fuse and waited a +second to see that it had caught and ran as before. + +At a safe distance they drew back and waited. Nothing happened. A +few seconds dragged on. They saw no sign of life in the fuse, no +light. In spite of the care they had taken it had got wet. It would +not work. The precious moments were flying. They stared agonizingly +at the fuse through the rain. + +"I'll have to take a look at it," said Meade desperately. + +Funaro and Murphy caught him by the arms. They all knew the +tremendous risk in a nearer approach. The fuse might be alight +still. At any second the flame might flash to the detonator and +then---- Yet Meade had to go. That charge had to be exploded if he +detonated it by hand, he thought desperately, and he had not come so +far and worked so hard to fail now. + +"Don't go," cried Murphy. + +"It ees danger," shouted Funaro. + +But Meade shook them off and bade them keep back. What was his +danger compared to the issue involved? That last charge had to be +exploded. He stepped quickly toward it and as he did so he threw his +eyes up toward the gray, rain-filled heaven in one last appeal. + +Did he hear the blind roar, did he see the upbursting masses of +sodden earth, was he conscious of the fact that the whole side of the +hillock had been blown away, that the last explosion had completed +the shattering work of the first, that they had succeeded? Did he +mark the whirling water, driven backward at first by the violence of +the explosion, returning and rolling in vast mass through the great +opening, did he see it plunging down the slope, through the trees and +bushes, and pour thunderously into the bed of the ravine? Did he see +the tremendous rush of the water from the great lake that man had +created tear earth from earth and ever widen and deepen the opening +as it crashed in a foaming, terrible, red cataract through the +outlet, striking down great trees, roaring, boiling wildly to the +bottom of the gorge far below? + +No, he saw nothing. Broken, beaten down by a huge bowlder that had +been thrown upward by the explosion and had struck him on the breast, +and lying battered under a rain of smaller stones and earth, he was +as one dead. + +"By God," cried Winters in great excitement on the crest of the hill, +"he's done it. He's saved the dam; that's a man." + +"Don't you know him?" screamed Miss Illingworth in his ear. + +"No." + +"Meade!" + +Winters caught her by the arm. + +"He's dead," she cried high and shrill, "but he saved the dam and the +bridge and the town. He's made atonement." + +"Yes, yes, don't faint," cried Winters. + +"Faint! I'm going to him." + +"How?" + +"The nearest way," screamed the woman, letting herself down over the +cliff wall to the broken rocks, by which only the hardy could reach +the lower level. + +* * * * + +What of the dam below in the valley? + +"Hold it, men, hold it; for God's sake, hold it," shouted +Vandeventer, rising from his crouching position against the palisade +to resume it instantly he had spoken. "Keep it up. If it goes down +let's go down with it. Damn it to hell, hang on--hang on! We'll +hold it. We aren't beat yet." + +Broken words, oaths, protestations, curses, cheers, expletives in +strange languages from the polyglot mob of men burst forth. Even +cowards had been turned into heroes because they had fought by the +side of men. Here and there a man not weaker physically perhaps, but +less resolute, less spiritually consecrated, less divinely obsessed, +dropped out of the rank that pitted itself in furious, futile, but +sublime fury against the wavering wall. Some of them fell backward +and lay still. Some had fainted and some of them were half dead. A +few here and there sank down on the trampled, muddy embankment and +buried their heads in their hands, sobbing hysterically. But most +still blind, mad, sublime, held on. And the palisade did not fall. +It did not bend back any further. + +The throb that told of the tremendous pressure of the waves, the +quiver that experience could feel the prelude to failure, began to +die away, to stop. What did it mean? The thunder grew still, the +rain diminished, it ceased, the clouds broke. Some great hand, as of +God, swiftly tore the black vault of the heavens apart. Faint light +began to glow over the sodden land. Through the rift they saw dimly +one great peak of mighty range. What had happened? + +"Here," said Vandeventer. + +How white he looked, how haggard, streaks of gray in his black hair +that had not been there before, but his eyes were blazing. He was +still the indomitable chief of the Spartan band. The nearest men +gave him a hand. He clambered up to his former vantage point on top +of the highest log of the stockade and stared down. The rise of the +water had stopped! He could not believe it, yet it was true. The +rain had ceased again, but by every natural law the drainage from the +hills would continue for some time in full volume. Yes, by all +rights the dam was doomed. The water still trickled through the +palisades in many small streams. That had been a gallant effort they +had made, even if a vain one. + +For ten minutes he stood silent, exhausted. Then he saw. The water +was not rising. No, it was falling; only a trifle, but enough. +Presently it had stopped filtering through the revetment. He looked +back. Not a drop ran on the other side of the palisade. Vandeventer +knew that the water must be discharging somewhere. The lake must +have broken through somewhere. He only needed that hint to recall +the hog-back and then Meade. He saw it all now. + +"We've won, the dam's saved," he cried greatly to the men who stood +back of the palisade staring at him. "Roberts has blown up the +hog-back. The water's falling. See for yourselves." + +Every man sprang up the palisade. Some one laughed and then some one +raised a cheer and those mud-covered, sodden, wornout men, who had +been about to die, saluted in heroic acclaim him who had led them to +victory and by implication him who had made that triumph possible. + + + + +XXX + +THE TESTIMONY OF THE DEAD + +Just as Helen Illingworth and Winters reached the lower level at the +foot of the mesa they were joined by Rodney. + +"What has happened?" cried the engineer. + +Winters answered as the three hurried along without stopping: + +"Meade blew up the hog-back." + +"Was that he?" + +"Yes." + +"I thought there was something familiar about him, but I did not +dare----" + +"I recognized him instantly," said Helen Illingworth. + +"That atones for the International," continued Rodney. + +"What does?" asked his friend. + +"The dam is safe; the water has stopped rising. I believe it's +beginning to fall a little. I saw someone jump up on the palisade +and wave his hand and then I saw them all gather around, evidently +cheering." + +"I should think the water would be lowered," said Winters; "it's +pouring out of a hole in the hog-back as big as a church." + +"It was a fine thing in Meade. Let's hurry and tell him so," +answered Rodney. + +"I'm afraid it's too late," said Winters. + +"Oh, don't say that," cried the girl. + +"Why, what's happened?" + +"The second blast was slow in going off," said Winters; "he went back +to look at it and got knocked over. It looked pretty bad from the +top of the mesa." + +Rodney would not have been human if he had not felt a leap in his +breast at the possibility, but he was too loyal a friend and too +genuinely fond of Meade for more than a passing emotion, for which he +was more than a little ashamed. + +"Let us press on," he urged. + +In a few moments they stopped by the three men. Meade was still +unconscious. The big Irishman sat on the grass with the engineer's +head on his knee. The deft-fingered little Italian was trying to +wash the blood away from the unconscious man's forehead with a +sodden, ragged piece of cloth. Meade was unconscious, he was +breathing heavily. There was a catch in his respiration. His breath +came at irregular intervals and was labored as if painful. + +A huge rock had struck him in the breast. The two men had torn open +his shirt and undershirt. The engineer's chest was bruised and +bloody. Evidently bones had been broken and probably serious +internal injuries had resulted. Every breath was an apparent agony +and that the exquisite pain did not arouse him to consciousness was +evidence of the terrible nature of the injury. A smaller, sharper +rock had cut him across the forehead and cheek, just missing his +right eye, and they found out afterward that he had been struck by +several other pieces dislodged by the explosion, and that his body +was covered with bruises. + +But there was nothing, not even in the cut on the forehead, to cause +any great alarm had it not been for the crushed chest. Winters and +Rodney were both men of action, accustomed to quick thinking and +prompt decision in emergencies; while Helen Illingworth could only +stand with clenched hands staring in mental anguish that paralleled +the physical suffering of the man she loved, the engineer and the +rancher immediately made preparations to get the wounded man to the +car. + +Murphy wore in his belt a short woodman's axe. With it they cut down +two young saplings, trimmed them and thrusting them through the +sleeves of their raincoats they made a fairly practicable litter. +Using the utmost care, they laid the unconscious man upon it and +Winters and Murphy, the two biggest men, took the handles at either +end. Helen Illingworth, praying as she had never prayed before, +sought to support the unconscious man's head. The Italian gathered +up the tools and went ahead to open up the path. Rodney followed +after. + +Their progress was slow of necessity. They had to handle Meade with +great care. Winters and Rodney, after the brief inspection they had +made, could not see a chance on earth for him. Neither could Helen +Illingworth. They went along without conversation, naturally, except +for an outburst of admiration from Winters. + +"I tell you," he said, "it was a magnificent thing for him to do. He +risked his life a hundred times in that mad rush with the dynamite in +his hands and the detonators in his pocket. Yet if he had only +stayed back he would have been safe." + +"It was his anxiety for the dam and the people that brought him +down," said Helen Illingworth. "He can't die," she murmured. "God +surely will not let him die. I love him so. And yet if he does and +I have lost him, innocent or guilty, he has redeemed his fame." + +"He saved others," quoted Rodney under his breath, "himself he could +not save." + +It was a work of great difficulty to get the wounded engineer into +the car, but they finally managed it. By the woman's direction they +laid him on her bed in her own private stateroom. + +"One of us must go for a doctor at once," said Rodney, "and that will +be my job." + +"It's twenty miles to the town," said the conductor, who had helped +to receive them. "If one of you could telegraph we could tap a wire." + +None of them could. + +"It's all down-grade and there's a good roadbed and I was some +sprinter in my college days," said Rodney. + +"And there was never greater need for haste than now," said Winters. +"I wish I had a horse here." + +"Don't give up, Miss Illingworth," continued Rodney, as he started +toward the door. "He's alive yet." + +Just then, opportunely enough, rounding the last curve before the +arch bridge, they saw the end of the other car rapidly approaching +them. Had they not been so excited they could have heard the furious +puffing of the engine as it drove the car at great speed up the heavy +grade. + +"Wait," said the conductor, "we can send the engine down for the +doctor. That'll be the Colonel's car." + +In a few minutes the car stopped on the siding. Out of it came +Colonel Illingworth, Dr. Severence, Curtiss, and some of the +officials of the Bridge Company in town. They were all greatly +excited. The Colonel did not stop to put on his hat. He ran to the +other car and climbed aboard. + +"The dam's going," he shouted. "The bridge and the town will be +flooded. We got word an hour ago by a messenger galloping down. The +telephone wires are down. I ran the car up here as the quickest way +to get over to the reservoir and the dam. Some of you who know the +way come with me." + +By this time the observation room of the car was filled with men. + +"You need not worry about the dam," said Rodney. + +"What do you mean?" + +"A man blew up the hog-back, made a spill-way, the water rushed out +through it into this ravine, you can see it below there, relieving +the pressure on the dam at once. Since it has held up till now it +will hold for good." + +"Thank God!" cried the Colonel, sinking down into a chair and wiping +the sweat off his brow. "The bridge will be safe then. By George," +he gasped, "the Martlet Company could hardly have stood another loss +like that. Who's the man who blew it up?" + +"His name is Meade," said Rodney quietly. + +"Not----?" + +"Yes." + +There was a long pause. Every man there knew of the failure of the +International and in what estimation the old Colonel held the name of +Meade because of that. + +"Well, it was a fine thing," said the Colonel; "it makes up for his +blundering work on the bridge." + +"Beg pardon, sir," said Shurtliff, who had stood wide-eyed and white +and suffering in silence ever since the engineer had been brought to +the car, "it was not his blunder." + +"Why, you said so yourself," cried the Colonel. + +"I lied," admitted the secretary. + +Quick as a flash Rodney had his notebook out. Here was the proof at +last. + +"Why?" + +"To save the reputation of the man I loved." + +"And how do I know you are not lying for this man now?" asked the +Colonel harshly. + +"These will prove it," said Shurtliff, extending some papers he drew +out of his pocket, where he had placed them that morning half +intending to tell Helen Illingworth the truth at last. + +"What are these?" the Colonel asked, staring at Shurtliff, who stood +erect before them, sustained more by his will than anything else, for +his knees were shaking and his body quivering; yet he was glad after +all, more happy than he had thought he could be, in making the +revelation, in vindicating the innocent, in giving that satisfaction +to Helen Illingworth, tardy, even too late, though it might be. + +"Letters, sir. You will find there a blueprint of the design of the +compression members," answered Shurtliff monotonously as if he had +forced his mind to a certain action and it was working automatically. +"With it is a letter from Bertram Meade to his father suggesting that +the lacings were too light and calling attention to the empiric +formulæ of Schmidt-Chemnitz in proof of his argument. On the back of +that letter Mr. Bertram Meade, Senior, made an indorsement--you know +his handwriting and can identify it--'_Hold until bridge is finished +and then give back to the boy. We'll show him that even +Schmidt-Chemnitz doesn't know everything_.'" + +Colonel Illingworth turned the paper over. There was the indorsement. + +"Well, by heaven!" he began. + +"There's another paper in an envelope addressed to the editor of _The +New York Gazette_. Will you read it aloud, sir?" + +Almost as if he had been hypnotized Colonel Illingworth took from the +envelope the brief note. He read it: + + +"_I alone am responsible for the error in the design of the +International Bridge, which has resulted in this terrible disaster. +I know that my son, in an effort to shield me, will assume the +responsibility. As a matter of fact, he had previously pointed out +what he believed to be a structural weakness, but I refused to heed +his representations and overbore his objections. The fault is +entirely chargeable to me. There is no possible expiation for my +blunder. The least I can do is to assume all the responsibility. +The blame is mine._ + +"BERTRAM MEADE." + + +He laid it down with the other papers. + +"The demonstration is complete and absolute," he began spontaneously, +amid a breathless silence. "The proofs are adequate. They would +establish young Meade's innocence in any court in the land. Where is +he? I have done him an injustice. I am ready to make amends," +continued the Colonel. + +"And while you are talking," said Helen Illingworth, who had been +standing in the doorway too absorbed by the dramatic recital to +interrupt it, "he's dying." + +"Dying! Where?" + +"He was battered to pieces by the last dynamite explosion. We +brought him here." + +"Were you there?" + +"We saw it from the top of the mesa. Oh, don't talk any longer." + +"Severence," said Illingworth, with prompt decision, "you haven't +forgotten all your old medical skill. This is your job. One of you +jump on the engine and bring a physician up and----" + +"I'm going," said Rodney. "Who's the best doctor in town?" + +"Dr. Fraser. He's a young man, but very skillful," answered one of +the local bridge men. + +"Bring our own Dr. Bailey up here from our hospital with him, and +tell that engine driver to get down to the town and back just as +quickly as he can go. Cheer up, Helen," said the Colonel. "I know +that a man is not going to rehabilitate himself by such an action and +have the evidence of his innocence brought out at such a moment just +to die." + +"Will you give me those papers, Colonel?" said Rodney. "You'll want +this written up and----" + +"Take them," said the Colonel. + +"Will you come along with me, Mr. Shurtliff? After I see the doctors +I'll want your affidavit." + +"Yes, sir, anything," said Shurtliff. + +"It was fine of you, Shurtliff," said Winters, "to try to shield your +employer and the man you loved, but, thank God, you spoke out before +it was too late. I'm sorry I pulled that gun on you; you're a man, +all right, even if you don't look it," he added to himself as +Shurtliff bowed and followed Rodney. + +Winters stood at the door of the passageway leading to the stateroom +while Helen Illingworth and Severence, who had been educated as a +physician, and the old Colonel, who knew a great deal about wounds +and accidents from his war experience, entered the stateroom. A new +spirit had come into the relations between father and daughter and +both were glad. There was no question now about the future. There +would be no opposition from Colonel Illingworth. Within an hour the +papers would have the story of how one man had saved a great dam, the +viaduct, the town, and its people, and they would have at the same +time the story of who was responsible for the fall of the +International Bridge. They would have the story of the attempted +self-sacrifice of the son to save the father. They would have the +story of the old man's splendid and magnanimous avowal of +responsibility before he died. The United States, the world, would +ring with the dramatic tale. + +It was as much to tell that story in his own way as to summon medical +aid that Rodney had gone for the doctor. And so the father held the +daughter clasped to his side while both bent over the still +unconscious man, whom Dr. Severence quickly and carefully and with +wonderful skill, considering his long withdrawal from practice, +examined. + +"What is it?" asked the Colonel as the vice-president looked up +presently. "My daughter is engaged to be married to him"--and he was +rewarded by the thrill and quiver that shot through his daughter's +being which he felt as he pressed her to his side--"we can't let him +die now." + +"He's in God's hands," answered Severence gravely. "He's been +terribly pounded everywhere. His breastbone is shattered, some of +his ribs are broken. I don't know." + +"That awful cut on his forehead?" + +"That's nothing." + +"And the other bruises?" + +"They count but little, but the blow on the chest"--he shook his gray +head sadly, ominously. + +"Do you think anything has penetrated his lungs?" asked Helen +Illingworth, as she pointed to her lover's lips, to a little bloody +froth that came therefrom. + +The old man nodded. + +"Perhaps," he said. + +"Oh, he can't die, he can't, he can't!" wailed the woman, sinking +down on her knees by the bed. + +"Not if any power on earth can keep him from it, my dear child," said +the old Colonel tenderly, bending over her. + +"Send me the porter of the car," said Severence, "and take Miss +Illingworth away. I want to get him undressed and----" + +"You will call me back the minute I can come?" + +"Certainly, my dear girl," said the vice-president, who had known the +young woman from childhood. + + + + +XXXI + +AT LAST TO THE STARS + +All the men except Curtiss and Winters had discreetly withdrawn from +the car and had gone over to the mesa to look at the lake and the +outlet. Indeed the water was roaring down beneath the steel arch +bridge, filling for the first time in generations the channel of the +Kicking Horse. Fortunately it could flow that way without danger to +the town or the viaduct below. + +The Colonel led his daughter to a chair and then turned to Winters. + +"You were there?" he began. "Tell me about it." + +Graphically the big cattle rancher told the story of Meade's mad rush +over the rocks with his two companions, of the desperate assault on +the hog-back, of the success that had met their efforts to open the +improvised spill-way, and then the final disaster. The recital lost +nothing in his graphic relation. + +"It was fine, it was magnificent," said the Colonel, patting his +daughter's shoulder. "Where are the two who went with him?" + +"They're outside there," said Winters. + +The old Colonel went to the door of the car and called the two men +into the car. + +"In the bank down in Coronado there's a thousand dollars of mine for +each of you," he said promptly. + +"We didn't do it for money, sor," said the big Irishman, "although +'twill be welcome enough, but how is Mr. Roberts?" + +"You mean the man who blew up the hog-back?" + +"Si, signore, a greata man he ees," said the little Italian. + +"I wish I could say he was all right, but there's a doctor with him +and we have sent for the best physicians in town. He's horribly +hurt." + +"But, plaise God, he may pull through, sor. The Holy Virgin an' the +Saints presarve him," said the Irishman, making the sign of the cross. + +And in his own language little Funaro breathed a similar prayer and +with his grimy, toil-stained hand he made the same gesture. + +"Murphy," shouted a voice from the pines on the side of the hill +between the car and the mesa. + +"That'll be Mr. Vandeventer, the resident engineer," said Murphy. + +Colonel Illingworth turned to the door again. + +"Where's Roberts?" cried Vandeventer, stumbling down the hill. He +was haggard and worn and weary to the point of exhaustion, but as +soon as he had been assured of the safety of the dam--and before he +left the water was visibly receding--he had started out to seek the +engineer whom he had, in his mind in the excitement of the moment, +accused of desertion. + +"He's here in my car, sir," said Colonel Illingworth. + +"And who are you, may I ask?" said Vandeventer, crossing the track +and swinging himself upon the platform of the car. + +"I am Colonel Illingworth, president of the Martlet Bridge Company." + +"But Roberts?" + +"His name is not Roberts. It's Meade." + +"What? The International man?" + +"Yes." + +"I knew he was an engineer. Well, he's made up for his failure +there." + +"He did not fail there any more than he failed here," said the +Colonel. + +"Where is he?" + +"It's a long story." + +"It can wait," said Vandeventer brusquely. "I want to thank him for +saving the dam and the lives of the men on it, and the town, and the +railroad, and the bridge." + +"I don't know whether you can thank him or not," said the Colonel. + +"You don't mean----" + +"He was terribly hurt by the last explosion and they brought him +here." + +"Can I see him?" + +For answer Colonel Illingworth pointed to the door. + +"This is my daughter. Your name is Vandeventer, is it not? Helen, +this is the engineer who is building the dam. He has come to ask +after his man." + +"I've done everything I can for him," said Severence, coming out of +the stateroom, followed by the porter, as Vandeventer shook hands +with the girl. "He's still unconscious, but seems to breathe a +little easier." + +Into the little room the woman and the four men crowded. +Vandeventer, accompanied by Murphy and Funaro, followed the Colonel. +Neither of the workmen would be left out. There lay the engineer, +his face as white as the linen of the pillow or the bandage which had +been deftly tied around his head. One hand, still grimy and +mud-stained, lay on the sheet. Helen Illingworth knelt down and +kissed it and laid her head on the bed. + +"He is to be my husband if he lives," she said simply. + +"A man and an engineer he is," whispered Vandeventer. + +"I misjudged you, Meade," said the Colonel softly, speaking as if the +unconscious man could hear. "I condemned you. I wish to heaven you +could hear me make amends now." + +"Begob," whispered Murphy, "you'd ought to seen him run wid the +dinnamite." + +The voice of the Italian murmured words which they knew were prayers +and though they came from humble lips they brought relief to all. +They entered deeply into Helen Illingworth's heart and mingled with +her own petitions, frantic, fervent, imperative, although she offered +them to Almighty God as from a woman broken. Presently they all +filed out of the room, leaving Helen Illingworth alone with what was +left of life in the crushed body of the man she had never loved so +much before. + +In the observation room Vandeventer told them of the fight for the +dam and how they had reached their maximum power of resistance and +more, and that the relief came in the very nick of time. Meanwhile +the engine driver had burned up the track going and coming and in +less than an hour he was back with two surgeons and a trained nurse. +Was it their skill and care and watchfulness that finally brought +Meade back to consciousness, or was it the passionate, consuming +intensity of will and purpose of the woman who loved him, who could +scarcely be driven from his side? Well, whatever the reason, after +many days he passed from death into life and came back again. + +He was conscious of Helen's presence and lay quietly enveloped in her +love long before he could talk coherently or question. Indeed, with +Rodney and Winters, and old Shurtliff, who swore to himself that he +would never forgive himself if Meade did not recover, and the +Colonel, and Vandeventer, and all the men of the force, who used to +stroll over after hours and just sit on the side of the track and +stare at the car where the man who had saved them was fighting for +his life as desperately as they had fought to save the dam, Meade was +surrounded by such an atmosphere of admiration and devotion as might +have stayed the hand of death itself. There came a day when the +physician said he could talk a little. + +"I saw you," Helen whispered. "I was standing on the high hill +watching, looking down upon you just before----" + +"But I shall look up to you all the rest of my life," said the man, +as the woman knelt, as was her wont, by the side of the bed. She +kissed his hand, thin, wasted, but white and clean now. + +"No, I to you," she murmured, as she pressed her lips to his fingers. + +"Look up a little higher, then," whispered Meade with some of the old +humor. + +"You mean?" + +The voiceless movement of his lips told her the story. She raised +herself and kissed them lightly. + +"I haven't dared to ask that before," said the man, closing his eyes. +"I wasn't strong enough to stand that." + +"But you're going to get strong; you must. I'd like to kiss you +forever," said the woman with pitying tenderness and great joy. + +"It's heavenly now, but I shall have to go away again when I am able +and----" + +"We are never going to be parted again." + +"I cannot let you marry a discredited man, a failure." + +"Don't you know," said the woman, rising, "that the whole United +States rings with your exploit, that the splendid saving of the dam +has caught the fancy of the people as it deserves and you are a hero +everywhere and to everybody?" + +"But the International Bridge and its failure?" + +Unbeknown to the two the Colonel had stopped in the doorway. + +"We know the truth now, my boy," said the old man, coming into the +room. "It was your father's fault, not yours." + +It was characteristic of Meade's temper and temperament that his +white lips closed in a straight line at this. + +"Where's Shurtliff?" he asked, after a little silent communing with +himself. + +The old man had come in and out of the room like a ghost during his +slow recovery. Colonel Illingworth turned away and summoned the +secretary. Rodney and Winters came, too. + +"Shurtliff," said Meade faintly but firmly, "tell them again who is +responsible for the failure of the International." + +"Forgive me, Mr. Meade," said Shurtliff, "but it was your brave old +father's fault." + +"You see," said the Colonel. + +"We knew it all the time," said Rodney. + +"But Mr. Shurtliff bravely gave us the final proof," said Winters. + +"Those papers?" said Meade. + +Shurtliff nodded. + +"And your father's own letter that he wrote the papers before his +heart broke," said Rodney; "I'll read it to you presently." + +"Why did you do it, Shurtliff?" + +"To right a great wrong, sir. I saw that we were mistaken to try to +spare the dead at the expense of the living, to wreck your life and +the future, and the happiness of Miss Illingworth. God bless her for +her kindness to a lonely old man. And so when you were brought here +dead I told them the truth and gave them the papers." + +"Gentlemen," said Meade, making a last try, "it is useless to deny it +now, but for the sake of my father's fame you won't let anyone know?" + +"Old man," said Rodney, "it was on the wires an hour afterward and +the whole United States knows it now. Your father made the mistake; +his letter admitted it bravely. The world honors him, it honors you." + +"Rodney," said Meade, "I wish you hadn't done it." + +"It was for Miss Illingworth's happiness and yours that I did it," +said Rodney. "And how much that cost me," he added, the confession +being wrung from him, "no one can ever know." + +He turned and left the room. Winters followed him full of sympathy +and comprehension. + +"Let me go out alone, old man," said Rodney. "I'll be back +presently. This is the last fight I've got to make." + +Winters watched him from the steps of the car as he disappeared in +the pine trees _en route_ to the mesa to fight it out under the open +sky alone. The others left the room also, last of all Shurtliff. + +"You forgive me, Mr. Meade. I've been through hell itself," said the +old man, "in these last six months." + +"Freely," said Meade. + +And Shurtliff went away with a lighter heart than he had borne for +many a long day. + +The two lovers were alone again. + +"You see," said Helen, "there's nothing can keep us apart now." + +"Nothing, thank God," whispered the man. "But I am sorry that it all +came out this way. I'm sorry not only because of your suffering, but +for other reasons--Rodney for one. He--it's too bad! It was not +necessary for you to get yourself almost killed to win me, I mean, +for wherever and whenever I found you I was resolved to marry you, +willy-nilly." + +"And is it true that poor old Rod had grown to care?" he asked, +putting by the academic discussion. + +The woman nodded. + +"I'm very sorry. I can't help it. We were always together, talking +about you," she said. + +"And he couldn't help it, either," said Meade. "Somehow I believe he +was the better man for you to have taken." + +But he looked at her wistfully and anxiously as he spoke. + +"I won't argue with you," said the girl, bending close to him. "I'll +only say that I know I have the best man in all the world, but if he +were the worst, I would rejoice to have him just the same." + + + +PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA + + + + +[Transcriber's note: illustration captions in brackets +were added by the transcriber.] + + + + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78753 *** diff --git a/78753-h/78753-h.htm b/78753-h/78753-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..88301d7 --- /dev/null +++ b/78753-h/78753-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,16081 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> + +<head> + +<meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"> + +<link rel="icon" href="images/img-cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + +<meta charset="utf-8"> + +<title> +The Project Gutenberg eBook of Web of Steel, by Cyrus Townsend Brady +</title> + +<style> + +body { color: black; + background: white; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } + +p {text-indent: 1.5em } + +p.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +p.t1 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 200%; + text-align: center } + +p.t2 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 150%; + text-align: center } + +p.t2b {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 150%; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center } + +p.t3 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 100%; + text-align: center } + +p.t3b {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 100%; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center } + +p.t4 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 80%; + text-align: center } + +.t4 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 80%; + text-align: center } + +p.t4b {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 80%; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center } + +p.t5 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 60%; + text-align: center } + +h1 { text-align: center } +h2 { text-align: center } +h3 { text-align: center } +h4 { text-align: center } +h5 { text-align: center } + +p.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; } + +p.thought {text-indent: 0% ; + letter-spacing: 2em ; + text-align: center } + +p.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +p.footnote {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 80%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +.smcap { font-variant: small-caps } + +p.transnote {text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +p.intro {font-size: 90% ; + text-indent: -5% ; + margin-left: 5% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +p.quote {text-indent: 4% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +p.finis { font-size: larger ; + text-align: center ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +p.capcenter { margin-left: 0; + margin-right: 0 ; + margin-bottom: .5% ; + margin-top: 0; + font-weight: normal; + float: none ; + clear: both ; + text-indent: 0%; + text-align: center } + +img.imgcenter { margin-left: auto; + margin-bottom: 0; + margin-top: 1%; + margin-right: auto; } + +</style> + +</head> + + +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78753 ***</div> + + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="capcenter"> +<a id="img-front"></a> +<br> +<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-front.jpg" alt=""THAT IS WHERE IT HAPPENED" (See p. 85)"> +<br> +"THAT IS WHERE IT HAPPENED" (<a href="#p85">See p. 85</a>) +</p> + +<h1> +<br><br> + WEB OF STEEL<br> +</h1> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> + By<br> +</p> + +<p class="t2"> + CYRUS TOWNSEND BRADY<br> + <span class="t4">Author of "The Chalice of Courage," "The Island of Surprise," etc.,</span><br> +</p> + +<p class="t3"> + and<br> +</p> + +<p class="t2"> + CYRUS TOWNSEND BRADY, JR.<br> + <span class="t4">Civil Engineer</span><br> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> + ILLUSTRATED BY THE KINNEYS<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t4"> + NEW YORK CHICAGO TORONTO<br> + Fleming H. Revell Company<br> + LONDON AND EDINBURGH<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t4"> + Copyright, 1916, by<br> + FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY,<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t4"> + New York: 158 Fifth Avenue<br> + Chicago: 17 N. Wabash Ave.<br> + Toronto: 25 Richmond St., W.<br> + London: 21 Paternoster Square<br> + Edinburgh: 100 Princes Street<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> + To<br> + MYRA<br> + Daughter—Wife<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3b"> +PREFACE +</p> + +<p> +"Web of Steel," as those who read will see, +is a book for men, about men, and written +by men.* The authorship is placed in the +plural advisedly. The book is a real collaboration. In +the minds of the writers there is a further pleasant +association in the fact that it is a book about a father +and son by a father and son, although no one must +identify the writers with the characters in the story +because of that relationship. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="footnote"> +* Yet with true masculine inconsistency it is dedicated to a woman! +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +It is said that the success of a book, like the success +of almost everything else that man at least undertakes, +depends upon women; that women buy, read, discuss, +and promote a novel, and if the book has no appeal to +women it is forever doomed. The authors have at least +proved themselves men of courage, the publishers likewise, +for it cannot be too insistently set forth that this +is primarily a book for men. The authors hope that +even with that expressed limitation it may nevertheless +appeal to women in some measure, especially those who +would fain enjoy—the authors are careful not to say +usurp!—masculine place and function. Let no one +imagine, either, the authors hasten to assure those who +may honor them by reading this preface, that there +are no women in the book. On the contrary the fortunes +of at least one of the men and the fate of the other +are woven around the eternal feminine whom the authors +have striven to make as feminine and charming, as +appealing and delightful, as their large experience with +the other sex permits and warrants! +</p> + +<p> +For the rest, whatever may be said of the fiction +the authors rest confident in the engineering. Again +let there be no misapprehension, this is a novel not a +treatise; who runs may read, if he does not run too fast, +and no scientific course is necessary for the comprehension +of the story. The authors disavow any intention +of picturing any engineers alive or dead, or any +particular bridge or dam, in any particular locality. The +whole thing is a work of the imagination except the +calculations of the engineer, which are exact when not +empiric! +</p> + +<p> +The book is the result of genuine co-operation and +accommodation. Father and son contended together in +affection, albeit sometimes rather sharply, as to what +should go in and what should come out. They are +happy to have arrived at a substantial agreement +which, while it satisfied neither author completely, yet +produced a harmonious and consecutive story, with +neither too much nor too little of the personality of +either inserted or withdrawn to mar its symmetry. Now +let all mankind read! +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> + CYRUS TOWNSEND BRADY, <i>Father</i>;<br> + CYRUS TOWNSEND BRADY, <i>Son</i>.<br> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> + THE HEMLOCKS, PARK HILL,<br> + <i>Yonkers, N. Y.</i><br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3b"> + CONTENTS<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> + I<br> +</p> + +<p class="t3"> + <i>BRIDGE</i><br> +</p> + +<p class="noindent smcap"> + I. <a href="#chap01">Love of Woman</a><br> + II. <a href="#chap02">The Other Passions of the Engineer</a><br> + III. <a href="#chap03">The Witness for the Defense</a><br> + IV. <a href="#chap04">The Portage Through the Dust</a><br> + V. <a href="#chap05">Fall and Revelation</a><br> + VI. <a href="#chap06">They Cross the Bridge Together</a><br> + VII. <a href="#chap07">The Colonel Makes Conditions</a><br> + VIII. <a href="#chap08">The Lovers Make Pictures on Paper and Heart</a><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> + II<br> +</p> + +<p class="t3"> + <i>C</i>-10-<i>R</i><br> +</p> + +<p class="noindent smcap"> + IX. <a href="#chap09">The Deflection in the Member</a><br> + X. <a href="#chap10">The Son of His Father Indeed</a><br> + XI. <a href="#chap11">The Death Message on the Wire</a><br> + XII. <a href="#chap12">The Failure</a><br> + XIII. <a href="#chap13">The Woman's Choice</a><br> + XIV. <a href="#chap14">For the Honor of the Son</a><br> + XV. <a href="#chap15">For the Honor of the Father</a><br> + XVI. <a href="#chap16">The Unaccepted Renunciation</a><br> + XVII. <a href="#chap17">That Which Lay Between</a><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> + III<br> +</p> + +<p class="t3"> + <i>DAM</i><br> +</p> + +<p class="noindent smcap"> + XVIII. <a href="#chap18">Picket Wire and Kicking Horse</a><br> + XIX. <a href="#chap19">The New Rodman</a><br> + XX. <a href="#chap20">The Valley of Decision</a><br> + XXI. <a href="#chap21">Marshaling the Evidence</a><br> + XXII. <a href="#chap22">Working Up</a><br> + XXIII. <a href="#chap23">The Former and the Latter Rain</a><br> + XXIV. <a href="#chap24">The Battle</a><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> + IV<br> +</p> + +<p class="t3"> + <i>SPILL-WAY</i><br> +</p> + +<p class="noindent smcap"> + XXV. <a href="#chap25">The Ancient Art of Fascination</a><br> + XXVI. <a href="#chap26">Once More Unto the Work</a><br> + XXVII. <a href="#chap27">Brute Force or Finesse</a><br> + XXVIII. <a href="#chap28">The Battle from Above</a><br> + XXIX. <a href="#chap29">The Victors</a><br> + XXX. <a href="#chap30">The Testimony of the Dead</a><br> + XXXI. <a href="#chap31">At Last to the Stars</a><br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap01"></a></p> + +<h2> +I +<br><br> +BRIDGE +</h2> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="capcenter"> +<a id="img-012"></a> +<br> +<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-012.jpg" alt="(Sketch of parts of a cantilever bridge)"> +<br> +(Sketch of parts of a cantilever bridge) +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<h3> +I +<br><br> +LOVE OF WOMAN +</h3> + +<p> +If meetings only lived up to their anticipations, life +would be a succession of startling climaxes. It +had been some months since Meade had seen Helen +Illingworth. He had dreamed of meeting her every +day and had pictured the meeting differently and more +rapturously after every letter. When Abbott had +received a telegram from Colonel Illingworth stating that +he and his party, including his daughter, would arrive +the next day, all the anticipations of months had been +concentrated and Meade had imagined a romantic meeting +in which the longings and desires of the period of +separation would all be summed up in one dramatic +moment. As a matter of fact the whole thing was casual +and ordinary to the last degree. It always is. +</p> + +<p> +In the first place, Dr. Severence, a retired physician, +who was vice-president and financial man, and Curtiss, +the chief engineer of the Bridge company, were hard +upon Miss Illingworth's heels as she stepped down from +the car to the station platform. He saw her, as it +were, surrounded by prosaic men. None of these men +was a possible rival. Each was old enough to be her +father so he could not really be jealous of them except +in so far as he was even jealous of the wind that kissed +her cheek—at least that is the way he put it to himself. +There was a vein of poetry in this engineer, as there is +in every man who achieves in whatever profession, on +whatever field of work he may adventure. Gradgrind +does nothing great, he mounts to no heights, he wins +nothing really worth the winning by his worship of the +facts of life. +</p> + +<p> +Meade had no time to indulge his disappointment. +He was busy in the exchange of greetings. The woman +he loved got the same welcome and the same handshake +as her father and the other two men. The common-place +conversation is scarcely worth recording. It was +not until big Abbott, who had been belated by some +sudden demand of work, came sweeping down the platform +to engage the attention of the men that the anxious +Meade had a moment with the girl herself. +</p> + +<p> +Now Helen Illingworth had also been seeing visions, +dreaming dreams and forecasting possibilities, so that +she had been as disappointed as he. The only real +satisfaction that either of them could take in the +situation lay in the fact that the other was there. It was +midsummer and the girl was dressed in some light filmy +fabric which well became her radiant beauty. Meade +could look at a bit of structural steel work and tell +you all about it. All that he could have told you about +the dress she wore, was that it was exquisitely +appropriate, and presented an appearance of amazing +simplicity for anyone who had the command of unlimited +means for the adornment of her person. He could have +figured out the cost of the most stupendous structure, +but it never occurred to him that with a great price to +a great artist Helen Illingworth had obtained that +look of delightful simplicity. The gown he thought so +modest and inexpensive, really represented the highest +reach of the sartorial art as it is practiced by, and +upon, fair womankind. He could not know that Miss +Illingworth had spent æons of time and riches in +proportion, with the assistance of the best dressmaker in +New York, over this very gown, and what was more +to the point, for this very purpose. +</p> + +<p> +Her maid had lifted her eyebrows behind her mistress' +back when she had been bidden to get out this dress for +a visit to the wild and primitive section of the country +in which the great International Bridge was being +erected. The woman knew, from what she had heard, +that there was nobody there except engineers, +contractors, supervisors, and workmen, and why all this +superb and costly finery should be wasted on the desert +air she could not see. Even her father, who was +ordinarily indifferent to what his daughter wore, noticed it +and commented on it when she appeared. +</p> + +<p> +"I've had the dress now for over a month," responded +Helen in answer to his observation, "and I want to wear +it once at least before it goes out of fashion." +</p> + +<p> +It was not wasted on Meade, she decided, as she +caught his rapturous glance; that is, the details were, +but the effect produced was entirely satisfactory and +quite what she had expected. She had never looked +lovelier. She was not a fragile, ethereal woman; quite +the reverse. That was one of ten thousand things +Meade liked about her. She was modern and up-to-date +in every good sense of the word. She could do all +those athletic and practical things that modern young +women can do and she could do them well. Was it +riding, or swimming, or golfing, or driving a speed-boat +or motor-car, she took them as an ordinary girl +takes bridge or the latest fantastic dance. +</p> + +<p> +Meade was intensely practical and efficient. He +could do all of those things himself and many more +and he liked to do them, and that is one reason why he +had been attracted to her; yet not for that alone did +he love her. On that soft summer afternoon she looked +as subtly delicate as every man would at one time or +another have the woman he loves appear, and as far +removed from things strenuous as if in another world! +Distance and absence had but intensified the man's +passion. He awoke to a sudden and overwhelming +realization that he had been a fool in that he had utterly +failed even in his most ardent thought to appreciate +the true beauty and rare quality of this wondrous +woman. +</p> + +<p> +A wise philosopher has pointed out that humanity +may be looked at from three points of view. There is +the real John, there is the John that John thinks John +is, and there is the John the world thinks John is. +Meade felt that he represented all three when he looked +at Helen Illingworth. Amid the emotions which the +sight of her inspired in him, as he answered mechanically +the natural and ordinary questions put to him by the +men of the party before Abbott came on the scene and +relieved him of that necessity, came a swift feeling of +despair. He was wearing the rough clothes, flannel +shirt, khaki trousers, heavy shoes and leggings, which +were his habitual use at work. Contrasted with her +filmy and delicately colored fabric his well-worn +olive-drab habiliments stood forth hideously. That is, he +thought so, and the contrast somehow seemed typical +of the difference between them as he considered her. +</p> + +<p> +What was he to aspire to such loveliness? In what +way did rough, rude, he measure up to such a graceful +and dainty divinity? He was as humble as true +lovers, of the male persuasion, usually are. She on the +contrary was as arrogant as the opposite sex frequently +is. The statement is made from the pre-matrimonial +period! Yet, had he but known it, she was as pleased +as he with the appearance of the beloved. +</p> + +<p> +There was the careless insouciance of conscious power +in the bearing of the engineer which differentiated him +from most of the men with whom she had been thrown +in contact during her life—the exceedingly well-trained, +the exceedingly well-groomed young manhood of the +present day. She recalled that even when her friends +went for a hard day in the woods from the big house +on the mountain above Martlet they always seemed to +be clothed in outing togs immaculately new. Obviously +the hand of little use with its daintier touch, was not +that appertaining to Meade. He was made for mastery +and for manful work, even as she for, in that +dress, softness and sweet attractive grace. He looked +strength and the fact that he was power in submission, +and strength in subordination, and so obviously hers +to command, gave her a delicate thrill; the same sort +of thrill the great engine-driver feels when he lays his +hand on the throttle. It is not only Budge and Toddy +who love to see the wheels go 'round. And everybody +wants to set them in motion. She looked covertly upon +him as a lion-draped Omphale might have looked at +Hercules, even though Meade bore no distaff in his +hand. +</p> + +<p> +The International Bridge was the biggest thing of +the kind the Martlet Company or any other American +structural plant had ever undertaken. It had been a +constant topic of conversation wherever her father was. +She had heard all about it and although, strictly +speaking, the bridge was the work of Meade, Senior, yet she +always identified it with Meade, Junior. There was a +feeling in her mind that it was her bridge and that, +through him, she commanded it. She was a supremely +assured and entirely confident young lady, yet as the +sheer and filmy mousseline-de-soie with its garniture of +lace even more delicate was driven by the wind against +the rough nondescript garment of the man by her side +she experienced a passing sense of uneasiness, such as +one might conceive the butterfly would feel in the +presence of a steam hammer. Yet Helen Illingworth +was not a butterfly and no more was Bertram Meade a +steam hammer, at least not to her. +</p> + +<p> +They were just two young people desperately in love, +neither quite sure of the other, at least no assurance had +been given or asked, and although the man was thirty +and the woman twenty-four they loved just as if their +passions had been born in the first unthinking hours of +youth and maidenhood. +</p> + +<p> +Experience and observation have established the fact +that the whorls on the thumbs of human hands differ in +tracery as one star differeth from another star in glory, +and that so far as humanity can draw a general +inference without having observed all the instances, no +thumb is like any other thumb that has ever complemented +fingers since Adam first inspected his pickers +and stealers. The Power that can stamp this infinite +variety in the human skin has seen to it that there are +no duplications in human temperaments. Infinite is the +variety of woman while women collectively are as various +as that infinity raised to the <i>n</i>th power. The love story +of every man and woman differs in some particular +from that of every other man and woman. Again a +sweeping deduction from perhaps inadequate observation. +Yet men who have loved many have observed the +variation in specific and particular instances and such +single-hearted experiences as have been set down for +the ruthless scrutiny of the ethic philosopher have +borne out this contention. +</p> + +<p> +But if it be true, as it is generally admitted, that +love-making is individual and different, in one +particular various woman changeth not. At sweet-and-forty +given the conditions and the man she will love +just as she might have—or did—at sweet-and-twenty. +It well may be, God knows, that she will love the same +way at sweet-and-sixty. Which is to say that although +both the young people in this veracious romance had +passed the period of—shall we say the Sweet Evelina +age?—they were both affected just exactly the way +they would have been affected if she had been eighteen +and he twenty-one. +</p> + +<p> +They were as awkward and constrained when left to +themselves as if one had not been all over the world on +man's jobs for a decade and the other had not queened +it among the nicest girls of the land for half as many +years. And with thoughts burning, passionate, and +words embarrassingly torrential at hand to give them +utterance they only spoke commonplaces! +</p> + +<p> +"How is the bridge getting along?" asked the girl, +repeating her father's words of a few minutes before, as +these two fell behind the others marching down the long +platform, while the maid standing by the private car +with the porter looked curiously after the moving group +and wondered if that grey-green, long-legged, young +man was the reason for the New York gown! +</p> + +<p> +"It's doing splendidly," was the answer, and even +with his heart full of the girl by his side whom he +longed to clasp in his arms but did not even dare touch +the hem of her garment, some little enthusiasm came +into his voice. "It is the greatest bridge that was ever +erected," he said. +</p> + +<p> +"How you love it," said the girl. +</p> + +<p> +Did Meade love the bridge? Ah, there could be no +doubt as to that. +</p> + +<p> +He had studied its growth hour by hour. As the +great steel web rose grandly from the pier under the +hands of the busy workmen and the arms of the great +traveler, his heart expanded with it. He took pride +in it that increased as panel succeeded panel. He had +followed it with even more heart-consuming interest and +anxiety when they began to push the suspended span +across the river on the outer end of the completed +cantilever, toward its fellow rising on the other side. Its +obsession of his soul was so strong and so complete, that +he could scarcely tear himself away from it to do +necessary work at his desk. +</p> + +<p> +He lingered about it when the rest of the work-a-day +world which was concerned with it had withdrawn to +rest. Frequently late in the night he had arisen and +had left the sheet-iron shack he occupied near the work +(for the topography of the land and the course of the +river had determined the location of the bridge far +from any town), and had stood staring, fascinated, by +its dim mysterious outline, high upraised against the +stars, until its details were lost in the blackness +overhead. Or were it moonlight, he had gazed bewitched +by the great web of steel, all its mighty tracery delicately +silvered, faintly outlined, lace-like, lofty, lifted +high into the heavens. +</p> + +<p> +He fell into a little reverie for a brief moment from +which she recalled him. +</p> + +<p> +"Well?" she asked. +</p> + +<p> +Was there a little wistful, jealous note in her voice? +He looked at her quickly as one essays a swift glance at +the sun and then averted his eyes, and from the same +cause. She blinded him. He really felt that he could +not look at her continuously without declaring his +passion before the whole world. There was much of the +feudal champion in him. The civil engineer is the last +survivor of the type in this modern and prosaic work-a-day +world anyway. Nothing would have pleased him +better than to have seized her before everybody, then +and there, crushing that filmy gown against his rougher +clothing, and to have borne her triumphantly away. +Knight errant or cave man? There are points of +similarity between them of which the world is perhaps not +aware. He was ready to fill both roles, and counted +himself unlucky in that there were no dragons present, +although on occasion Colonel Illingworth might have +essayed that part with some success. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, naturally," he found himself saying in a +conventional tone of voice, "it means a great deal to me. +My father——" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, your father," she began indifferently, although +she knew and liked the great engineer. +</p> + +<p> +"It is his crowning work and——" +</p> + +<p> +"Your beginning." +</p> + +<p> +"It is not in me, or in any engineer, to begin where +my father left off," he said, "but in some way it is +a beginning for me. What little I have done heretofore——" +</p> + +<p> +"Little?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes. It isn't really very much. It seems more +than it is. Anybody could have done it." +</p> + +<p> +"Absurd." +</p> + +<p> +"It doesn't amount to very much to me at least," +he went on, smiling at her interruption, but pleased at +it. "But this will count a great deal, because through +father's kindness I had some hand—— +</p> + +<p> +"I believe you did it all," interrupted the girl. +</p> + +<p> +He broke into sudden laughter and his merriment had +that boyish ring she liked. He seemed to think that was +a sufficient answer to that statement, for he went on +quickly. +</p> + +<p> +"How long shall you stay?" +</p> + +<p> +And in spite of himself he could not keep his anxiety +out of his voice. +</p> + +<p> +"I think father's going on to the city some time +tomorrow—probably in the morning." +</p> + +<p> +Meade's face fell. +</p> + +<p> +"So soon as that?" +</p> + +<p> +"I will try to persuade him to stay longer. I've seen +lots of bridges built but never one like the International, +and I should enjoy standing by and watching you +work." +</p> + +<p> +"I don't do the work. Abbott does that, and the +men, of course." +</p> + +<p> +"Your work is the work that makes possible and +profitable the labor of the others," she persevered. +"You plan, you lead, the rest only follow. By the way, +father told me to ask you and Mr. Abbott to dine with +us tonight in the car." +</p> + +<p> +Meade's mood changed into positive gloom. +</p> + +<p> +"I can't," he said dejectedly. +</p> + +<p> +"Have you some other engagement? Are you dining +with some other people more to your fancy?" +</p> + +<p> +"You know there is no one here but Abbott, the +foremen, and the workmen." +</p> + +<p> +"Why not, then?" +</p> + +<p> +"I haven't any clothes, neither has Abbott. We +left our dress suits behind us when we came into the +wilderness to work." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh," she laughed. "What difference does that +make? Come just as you are. It will be a relief. I +like you that way. I get so tired of black and white," +she went on quickly to prevent him from taking +advantage of her incautious admission. +</p> + +<p> +Happiness came back to his soul at that. He had +a half-formed notion of perpetually preserving these +garments that she liked and hanging them up in his +ancestral hall, as men did suits of armor which they +had proved in strife, to which their descendants could +point with pride. Just an old suit of olive drab which +she liked the love of woman can dignify anything in +the mind of the man she loves. +</p> + +<p> +The half-formed project died, however: for one thing +he had no ancestral halls. +</p> + +<p> +"Really," he found himself saying, "it's awfully +good of you, but I don't think I should with no +garments suited to the occasion. I tell you what I'll do. +I'll motor over to the town"—it lay some twenty-five +or thirty miles away—"and get myself a proper outfit." +</p> + +<p> +"It will take so long and I shall be here only until +tomorrow," she said softly. +</p> + +<p> +"Hang the clothes," said the man, radiant once more +in that admission, "since you will allow it I will come +with what I can rake up. But you'll have to tell me +which fork to use and give me expert advice in those +customs of polite society which I have almost forgotten +out here in the wilderness." +</p> + +<p> +"I'll do my best," returned the other. "And after +dinner and you have had your smoke with the men, we +will go down and look at the bridge by moonlight." +</p> + +<p> +"And what will you do meanwhile if I should smoke +with the men?" +</p> + +<p> +"I will wait," said the woman with mock humility. +"Women always wait while men smoke unless they +smoke themselves, don't they?" +</p> + +<p> +"And you have not learned that?" +</p> + +<p> +"Not yet. It makes me feel dreadfully old-fashioned +sometimes, but I have never even tried a cigarette. I +don't wish to." +</p> + +<p> +"I love——" he began, and then stopped amazed at +his own hardihood, fearful of the possible consequences +of his almost betrayal. +</p> + +<p> +"You what?" she asked daringly, with another swift +glance as swiftly withdrawn. +</p> + +<p> +"I—I like women who do not smoke," he answered +lamely, which was not at all what he intended to say, +but which was nevertheless an approval of her course. +"But if you think that with the possibility of but a few +hours in your society I am going to sit around and +smoke with your father or Abbott or Severence or anybody +on earth you are sadly mistaken. I can smoke with +men any time I wish, but I can only talk to you once +in a lifetime." +</p> + +<p> +"It isn't six months since you were at our house." +</p> + +<p> +"Six months! It's a thousand years," he went on, +"and I'm going to take you out on the bridge after +dinner. It's great at any time. It's the most magnificent +sight on earth even now, but in the moonlight—there +it is now," he pointed as the little group walked +past the station which had hid the view and the great +structure suddenly was revealed to them. +</p> + +<p> +Unconsciously the engineer used the neuter pronoun +for the great structure which for all its sexlessness +had still a being and a life. +</p> + +<p> +It is the habit of man to imbue with personality the +thing inanimate that he loves. Furthermore as love +naturally is associated in the masculine mind with the +opposite sex, he generally describes that genderless thing +without life which is nearest his heart as "she." Witness +the sailor and the ship, the railroader and the train, +the chauffeur and the car. The bridge engineer is the +exception to the rule. The great structures which he +flings from pier to pier, which he stretches from bank +to bank, which lift themselves above rivers and mountain +gorges and arms of the sea, are always neuter. "It" +is the proper pronoun. +</p> + +<p> +The four men ahead had stopped and stood silent. +There was something awe-inspiring and tremendous +about the great, black, out-reaching, far-extending +arms of steel. The first sight of it always gave the +beholder a little shock. It was so huge, so massive, so +grandly majestic, and withal so airy seen against the +impressive background of deep gorge and palisaded +wall and far-off mountains. So ether-borne was it in its +perfect proportion that even dull and stupid people—and +none of these were that—felt its overpowering +presence. Meade and the girl stopped, too. After one +glance at the bridge she looked at him. And that was +typical. For the first time he was not at the moment +aware of, or immediately responsive to, her glance. And +that too was typical. She noted this with a pang of +jealousy. +</p> + +<p> +"You love the bridge," she said softly. +</p> + +<p> +He straightened up and threw his head back and +looked at her. +</p> + +<p> +"I thought so," he said simply,—"until today, but +now"—he stopped again. +</p> + +<p> +"But now?" she asked. +</p> + +<p> +"I have just learned what love really is and the +lesson has not been taught me by the bridge," he +answered directly. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap02"></a></p> + +<h3> +II +<br><br> +THE OTHER PASSIONS OF THE ENGINEER. +</h3> + +<p> +Yet Bertram Meade, the younger, did truly love +the bridge which he had seen grow from the +placing of the first shoe—the great steel base +on top of the pier which carries the whole structure—to +the completion of the soaring cantilever reaching out +to meet its companion on the other side. Meade, Junior, +although he had turned his thirtieth year, was indeed +young for the position of Resident Engineer, in the +interests of his father the designer, of such a bridge as +the great International, which was to be the tie that +bound, with web of steel, two great countries which lay +breast to breast; already in touch save for the mighty +river that flowed between them. +</p> + +<p> +By no means would Meade, the younger, have been +charged with the great responsibilities of the Bridge +had it not been for two things, neither of which would +have warranted his employment in that position by the +Martlet Bridge Company, but which taken together +induced them to give him a trial. The first was his +exhaustive preparation and wide experience. No one +had ever started in a life profession with better +equipment than Bertram Meade. To a thorough technical +training at Harvard in the Lawrence Scientific School, +had been added a substantial record of achievement. +A fine bridge which he had erected in faraway Burma, +triumphantly achieving the design despite all sorts of +difficulties, had attracted the attention of old Colonel +Illingworth, the President of the Martlet Bridge Company. +</p> + +<p> +He had kept the young man under his eye for a long +time. When he commissioned his father, Bertram +Meade, Senior, to prepare the plans for the great +International, the most sought for and famous of bridges, +he had noted with satisfaction that the older man, who +stood first among the bridge engineers on the continent, +had associated with himself his son. Meade, Junior, +had recently returned from South America, where he had +again shown his mettle. The two worked together in +the preparation of the designs for what was to be the +crown and triumph of the older man's life, the most +stupendous of all the cantilever bridges in the world. +</p> + +<p> +Indeed there was almost as much sentiment as science +entering into the designing in the great engineer's soul. +After the completion of the International he intended +to retire from the active exercise of his profession. If +he could withdraw with the consciousness that he had +linked together two great peoples and that through the +arteries of trade which ran across his bridge their +hearts would beat in greater harmony, he would +consider that the end had crowned all his work. +</p> + +<p> +He had a high idea of his only son's ability. He was +willing to proclaim it, to maintain it, and defend it +against all comers except himself. When the two wills +clashed he recognized but one way, his own. The +relations between the two were lovely but not ideal. There +was leadership not partnership, direction rather than +co-operation. The knowledge and experience of the +boy—for so he loved to call him—were of course +nothing compared to those of his father. When, in +discussing moot points, the younger man had been +unconvinced by the calculations of the elder, he had been +laughed to scorn in a good-natured way. His +carefully-set-forth objections, even in serious matters, had +been overborne generally, and by triumphant calculations +of his own the father had re-enforced himself in his +conclusions; and the more strongly because of the +opposition. +</p> + +<p> +Young Meade's position was rather anomalous anyway. +He had no direct supervision of the construction. +He was there as resident engineer representing his +father. He had welcomed the position because it gave +him an opportunity to see from the very beginning the +erection of what was to be the greatest cantilever bridge +the feet of the world had ever trod upon, the wheels of +the world had ever rolled across. +</p> + +<p> +He had followed with the utmost care, constantly +reporting the progress to his father, every step taken +under the superintendence of Abbott, a man of great +practical ability as an erector, but of much less capacity +as a scientific designer or office engineer. Meade had +watched its daily growth with the closest attention. +Like every other man in similar case, the work had got +into his blood. It had become a part of his life. He +watched it when he was in its presence, he listened for +it when in the office and out of sight. The rat-tat-tat of +the pneumatic riveters was music to him. Even the +greater harmonies of the wind which blew ceaselessly +through the deep gorge where the river ran two +hundred feet below, diapasoned through his very brain. +</p> + +<p> +In any mood or under any sky he liked it, even when +the rains fell upon it and the winds screamed about it +standing indifferent to both assaults. But perhaps it +appealed to him most at twilight when the hardness and +harshness of all the rigid lines of metal, still to be seen +plainly in their completeness, were softened in the +veiling obscurity of the half light, glowing palely red +on the western hills. Then the bridge, poised upon its +great pier with its gigantic arm extended over the +water dark from the withdrawn sun flowing swiftly +beneath, was most beautiful to him. +</p> + +<p> +Yes, Bertram Meade loved the bridge; yet more he +loved Helen Illingworth. Should the comparative be +used? Right-minded men love many things. Even +though they love honor and fame and opportunity and +labor and persistence and achievement, they also love +their kind; the aged parent, the loyal friend, the happy +child. And some love sorrow and some love laughter, +but all love woman. +</p> + +<p> +Sometimes there is strife between these various +passions. Happy the man who can enfold all the others +within his heart without forfeiting or lessening his love +for woman. Bertram Meade was that sort of man. He +never troubled himself to decide among conflicting +claims. They did not conflict. He loved the bridge as +he loved his father; and as he loved Helen Illingworth +primarily, there was no incompatibility of appeals in +this trio of affection. +</p> + +<p> +Sometimes, in fantastic moods, the younger Meade +wondered if the bridge in some strange way could feel +what it was to him, if it could know that it was more +to him than to any man on earth. To Abbott it was +a big job, to his father it was the crowning +achievement of a lifetime of designing. To Meade, Junior, +it was life itself. Because he had somehow decided that +as the completion of the International meant much to +his father, so also should it mean much to him. For +on the day on which it stood finished and triumphant he +would venture to ask Helen Illingworth that question +which had trembled on his lips a hundred times since he +had known her. Until that day he would keep silent. +</p> + +<p> +After the woman, the young man almost idolized his +father. Motherless from birth, the older man was all +the family the younger had. His father's greatness had +impressed itself upon him even before he was old enough +to know what greatness was, or in what particular his +father could lay claim to it. Nor was the older man so +engrossed in his profession, as is often the case with +greatness, as to neglect the smaller things in life. +The young wife of the elder Meade, new-made a mother, +died in childbirth and that made a great difference to +the boy. Remorseful and repentant Meade was careful +to make the boy his companion, by way of reparation +at first and later because it was joy and its own reward +to him. The two were thrown together the more by +the untoward disappearance of the woman. +</p> + +<p> +The childish admiration of the lad developed into +an adoration of his father. When he grew up to be an +engineer himself, on more than one occasion he was +brought in contact with his father's work and he was +able to appreciate its characteristic fineness, its superb +solidity, the scientific mastery of the technique of the +profession which it indicated. Perhaps his devotion to +his father and to his profession, in which his aim had +been to be worthy of the older man's great reputation, +to live up to it, had so obsessed his mind that hitherto +the attraction of womankind had not been very great. +</p> + +<p> +Bertram Meade had enjoyed minor affairs of the +heart, as have most young men, but they were ephemeral +and evanescent until he met Helen Illingworth. He had +taken her in to dinner in her father's house on his first +visit to Martlet as the emissary of his own father about +the plans of the bridge. It was summer and the +Illingworths chose to pass a portion of it in the great big +house on the mountain, the top of one of the peaks of the +Allegheny range, where Colonel Illingworth could get +down to the bridge works in the valley without difficulty +if there was need. +</p> + +<p> +Young Meade's life had been a roving one. He had +met women all over the world, but he had never spent +much of his time in social America and this was the first +splendid American girl, gloriously representative of her +class, with whom he had come into any intimate contact. +He fell in love with her out of hand and although he +scarcely dared to dream it—his experience had not made +him very bold where such women as she were concerned—he +did not fall alone. +</p> + +<p> +There was back of Meade a solid record of substantial +achievement in far countries and among strange peoples, +where he had been confronted by unknown demands and +beset by mysterious dangers. Straight and bronzed +and tall and confident enough, except when he looked +at her, with the assurance that comes from achievement, +and with strength mental as well as physical written all +over him, Meade was the modern representative of the +ancient guild of soldiers of fortune. He looked at life +as the knight-errant of other days who faced the world +lordly a-horseback and laid it under tribute of his sword +and spear, and to whom the service of woman was the +highest duty, the greatest privilege, the supremest +pleasure. +</p> + +<p> +Meade was the means of communication between his +father and her father. He was often at Martlet that +summer. He met her in the city in the winter. He +followed her for a brief visit to the South. The next +summer found everything settled but a proposal on his +part, and an acceptance upon hers. Proposals bear the +same relation to love affairs that prefaces do to books. +They seem to come first, but in reality they are the last +things said or written. And for the time to speak or +write he waited for the bridge, she for him. +</p> + +<p> +Indeed Helen Illingworth had been very much vexed +at her somewhat restrained lover. She resented it that +a man who had been a construction engineer at home and +abroad, could possibly be timid even before a woman. +When he had not spoken the fateful words at their last +meeting she could scarcely veil her disappointment from +him. She made no effort to conceal it from herself. +And when the engineer came to think of what had +happened he cursed himself for a fool, because he had not +put everything to the touch. Yet he felt the proper +hesitation in which a man should always approach a +woman, especially if he craves success. He was not +sure of her. It might be that she would say no. The +fall of the bridge could hardly have dismayed him more +than that possibility. And it was after all better to +wait until he had done his work and could point to his +not inconsiderable share in it before he did speak. In +his ignorance of the feminine heart he half fancied such +an achievement might plead for him! He knew not that +he needed it not. +</p> + +<p> +So with father, bridge, and woman in his heart—the +last as usual being first—Bertram Meade was very much +a lover as he stood on the temporary siding and watched +the engine drawing the special train, to the end of which +was attached her father's private car, rolling down the +track toward the bridge for a summertime excursion +under the guise of an inspection tour. +</p> + +<p> +If anybody could have weighed in a balance his +respective passions, as he stood there by her side +confronting the bridge, he would have discovered that for +once at least father and bridge together were flying +high into the air, uplifted by the power of a greater, +a more natural and a final passion. +</p> + +<p> +After all in the long run it is a woman, even though +scarcely more than a stranger, who will win over the +greatest bridge or the finest parent the world may +know—especially in the case of a young man! +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap03"></a></p> + +<h3> +III +<br><br> +THE WITNESS FOR THE DEFENSE +</h3> + +<p> +One of the pleasantest evidences of the possession +of riches is in the luxury of a private car. +Although Colonel Illingworth was personally a +man of simple tastes as became an old campaigner, +there was no appointment that wit could devise or +that money could buy which was lacking to make his +private car either more comfortable or more luxurious. +Colonel Illingworth did not take large parties with him +on the "Martlet," for so he had named the car. Indeed +the two men and his daughter, with the cook or steward +and the porter and the lady's maid, about exhausted the +capacities of the car, so that there was an unusually +large observation room at the end. +</p> + +<p> +Anything that partook of luxury and refinement +would have been of deep interest to Meade and Abbott, +who had been removed from both for a long time on the +work. But in its napery, glass, china, and silver, that +dining table needed not to apologize to any other +anywhere. The Colonel was most punctilious in dressing +his part and although he willingly condoned the fact +that neither Meade nor Abbott had brought evening +clothes to the camp, he and his guests were arrayed to +fit the table. +</p> + +<p> +As for his daughter, she had put on her very best. +The rude hand of mere man could not hold pencil sufficiently +delicate to describe her radiant apparel. Meade, +who sat nearest her, could not do it, albeit he never +took his eyes off her if he could help it. Neither could +the other men who looked at her so admiringly, even +though one of these was her father and the other two +were well and, considering the years and sizes of their +several consorts, fatly married! +</p> + +<p> +Again the French maid had lifted her brows +surreptitiously when this gown had been ordered extracted +from its wrappings and protecting tissues. She did not +lift them quite so high however, because now with the +sharpness of her sex and trade, she knew why +Mademoiselle's best had been taken on the train and donned +on this occasion. It was for the engineer who sat by +her side at the table in the observation room. +</p> + +<p> +If anything had been needed to reduce this said engineer +to a condition of helpless impotency and despair +it was this new gown. Some women's clothes wear the +women, and others women wear! This is an orphic way +of saying that some women clothes make, while others +make the clothes. Oh, not by hand, not by any deft +stitchery, but by personality. It was always difficult +for mere man to describe one of Helen Illingworth's +gowns, only an observing, and unprejudiced, woman +could do that. +</p> + +<p> +Of course every wise man knows, in spite of vehement +assertion to the contrary, that as a rule women dress +for other women, not for men. That claim that they +dress for men is usually urged to placate the bill-payer +and absolve the feminine conscience, but it is not true, +that is generally speaking. In this instance, it was. +There was no woman to be dazzled by Helen Illingworth's +apparel in that car unless it was Celeste, the maid. +No man is a hero to his valet, eke no woman a heroine +to her maid. She did not usually care greatly about +any impressions she made on Celeste, although the +vivacious, enthusiastic expressions of approval she aroused +in her factotum that night were balm to her soul. She +wanted somebody to tell her how well she looked; not +from vanity but as a forecast of the impression she +would probably make on her engineer. +</p> + +<p> +It had taken him little time to make his toilet. He +rejoiced in a business suit, new and from the best tailor. +He was a fastidious man in such matters, and it fitted +him and became him amazingly. Abbott was dressed +likewise. They were both scrubbed to within an inch +of their lives, but climbing about the bridge their hands +were scratched, roughened, stained, and torn. Aside +from that, Meade was certainly most presentable, and +old Abbott, in spite of his indifference to such matters, +looked the able and powerful man he was. +</p> + +<p> +The conversation at dinner was at first light and +frivolous. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm lost," began Abbott, "overpowered with all +this silver and glass and china." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," laughed Meade, "we should have brought +along our granite ware and tin cups, then we would +be free from the dreadful fear that we are going to +drop something or break something." +</p> + +<p> +"You can break anything you like," said the Colonel +with heavy pleasantry. "Make hash out of the china +and cut glass," he went on with a delightful mixture of +metaphors, "so long as the bridge stands." +</p> + +<p> +"And that is going to be forever, isn't it, Mr. Meade?" +asked the girl quickly. +</p> + +<p> +"I don't think anything built by man will survive +quite that long," he answered as much to her father and +the others as to her, "but this gives every promise of +lasting its time." +</p> + +<p> +"You know," observed Curtiss, "there was some +question in my mind about these big compression +members. When I first studied your father's drawings I +wondered if he had made the lacing strong enough to +hold the webs." +</p> + +<p> +"That matter was very thoroughly gone into," said +Meade quickly. "It was the very point which I myself +had questioned, but father is absolutely confident that +we provided latticing enough to take up all the stresses. +I looked into that matter myself," he went on with +much emphasis. +</p> + +<p> +"I guess it's all right," said Curtiss lightly. "I +examined the webs and lacings carefully this afternoon. +They seem to be as right as possible." +</p> + +<p> +"Those trusses," said Abbott emphatically, "will +stand forever. You need not worry about that." +</p> + +<p> +"Are you going to finish this job on time?" asked +Severence, the vice-president. "You know the financial +end of it is mine, and much depends upon the date of +completion." +</p> + +<p> +"That depends upon you people at the shop, Doctor. +If you get the stuff here to me I'll get it in place in +short order," answered Abbott. +</p> + +<p> +"There's an immense amount of work still to be +done on the bridge, though," said Curtiss, "and you +can't let up a minute if we are to complete it within +the limits assigned." +</p> + +<p> +"I don't expect to let up a minute. If necessary I'll +get more men and work them in two shifts, or even +three. Don't worry about that, gentlemen." +</p> + +<p> +"We aren't worrying about anything with you and +Meade on the job, Abbott," said the Colonel genially. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, you are, father," said the girl, "begging +your pardon, you live bridge, and think bridge, and +sleep bridge, and eat bridge, and drink bridge." +</p> + +<p> +"Mercy," laughed the Colonel. "I must have a digestion +that is a cross between that of an elephant and +an ostrich. I'm glad I don't play it, too." +</p> + +<p> +"You know what I mean," said his daughter. "Ever +since the International has been started you have +scarcely been able to give a thought even to me. I'm +tired of it. I hope the old thing will soon be finished +so that we can all go back to normal life again." +</p> + +<p> +"I hope so, too," assented the Colonel, "and I guess +you are right. The fact is the bridge is an obsession +with us all. It is the biggest job the Martlet has ever +handled. Indeed it is the biggest thing in the world. +It's the longest cantilever, the greatest span, the +heaviest trusses, the——" +</p> + +<p> +"I've heard all about it," interrupted the girl, waving +him into silence, "ever since you began it. Sometimes +I think it's beginning to obsess me, too." +</p> + +<p> +"You don't look like it," whispered Meade, under +cover of the general laugh that greeted her remark. +</p> + +<p> +"What do I look like?" she whispered back quickly +in return. +</p> + +<p> +But Meade had no opportunity to tell her save in +so far as his eyes spoke for him because as the laughter +died away the Colonel took up the conversation. That +silent language which the young engineer spoke with +his eyes, however, must have been quite intelligible and +easy for her to understand. Her color was already high, +but in the excitement of his glance in an indefinable +anticipation of something, she could not exactly tell +what, it deepened a little under that direct almost fierce +glance. +</p> + +<p> +"It is not exactly a subject for dinner conversation," +said the Colonel with sudden gravity, which proved how +keenly his daughter had realized his overpowering +interest in the great undertaking, "but all of us here, +even you, my dear, must realize how much that bridge +means to us. I won't go so far as to say that its failure +would ruin us, but it would be a blow both to our finances +and our fame that it would be hard for us to survive." +</p> + +<p> +"Have you ever known anything that my father +designed to fail?" asked Meade somewhat hotly. +</p> + +<p> +"No, and that is why we took his plan in spite +of——" +</p> + +<p> +"In spite of what, sir?" +</p> + +<p> +"In spite of Curtiss here and some others." +</p> + +<p> +"Mr. Curtiss," said Meade, turning to the chief +engineer, "if it will add anything to your peace of +mind I will assume my full share of responsibility for +the matter. You know the books by Schmidt-Chemnitz +the great German bridge engineer?" +</p> + +<p> +Curtiss nodded. +</p> + +<p> +"At first, I, that is we, thought that there might +possibly be weakness in those compression members, but +I checked them with the methods he advocates and then +submitted the figures to my father and then he went +through the whole calculation and applied coefficients +he felt to be safe." +</p> + +<p> +"I'm willing to take your father's judgment in the +matter rather than Schmidt-Chemnitz', or anybody's," +said Curtiss, "so successful has been his career." +</p> + +<p> +"Now that I have seen the members in place I have +no doubt that they will stand," said the Colonel. +</p> + +<p> +"Sure they will," added Abbott with supreme and +contagious confidence, an assurance which helped even +Meade to believe. +</p> + +<p> +"Of course we all know," said Dr. Severence, who had +been long enough in touch with engineering to learn +much about it, "that there is always more or less of +experimenting in the design of a new thing like this." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said the Colonel, "but we don't want our +experiments to fail in this instance." +</p> + +<p> +"They won't," said the young man boldly. +</p> + +<p> +He had long since persuaded himself that he had been +all wrong and his father all right, so that he entered +upon his defense and the defense of the bridge with +enthusiasm. He was ready to break a lance with +anybody on its behalf. +</p> + +<p> +"Well," began the Colonel, "we have every confidence +in your father and in you. I don't mind telling +you, Meade, it need not go any further, that when this +bridge is completed we shall be prepared to make you +personally a very advantageous offer for future +relations with the Martlet Company if you care to accept it. +On the strength of your probable acceptance we are +already planning to venture into certain foreign fields +which we have hitherto not felt it to our interest to +enter." +</p> + +<p> +"That is most kind of you, Colonel Illingworth," +said the young man gratefully, "and it appeals to me +very strongly. I have been associated with father +latterly. He wants to retire with the completion of +this bridge and before I open any office of my own I +should like the advantage of further experience. Such +a connection as you propose seems to me to be ideal, +from my point of view. No man could have any better +backing than the Martlet Bridge Company." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, we shall look to you to be worthy of it," said +the Colonel kindly. +</p> + +<p> +His glance vaguely comprehended his daughter as +he spoke. Colonel Illingworth was a very rich man. +The Martlet Bridge Company was nearest his heart, +but he had many other interests. His only daughter +would eventually be the mistress of a great fortune. +She could have married anybody—anywhere. Indeed +Europeans of high station and ancient lineage had +already indicated quite plainly their willingness to ally +themselves with beauty and—is it doing them an +injustice to say booty, as well? +</p> + +<p> +But Miss Illingworth would have none of them. She +was an American to the very core and so proud of it +that no old-world title or position could buy her. None +of these distinguished gentlemen of foreign birth who +had come a-wooing had made any lasting impression +upon her. She was now convinced, and for all her life +she was sure, that she wanted more than anything else +just one American man in the engineering profession! +She could have him for the taking, she knew. And she +wished he knew it, and would act upon the knowledge +without further delay. +</p> + +<p> +Meade was not poor. Of course, his means were +limited compared to Colonel Illingworth's great fortune, +but what he had earned, saved, and invested was +sufficient—yes, even for two. And he would inherit +much more. Old Meade had not been the greatest +engineer of his generation for nothing. Independent and +self-respecting, young Meade could not be considered a +fortune-hunter by anybody. He was the kind of man +to whom a decent father likes to intrust his daughter. +Old Colonel Illingworth found himself gazing wonderingly +at the two in a way that again deepened the flush +of color in his daughter's cheek as she caught his look. +She was relieved that Meade had not happened to observe it. +</p> + +<p> +Had he been blessed with a son by his long dead wife +he would have been proud if he had been the type of +man that Meade was, thought the Colonel, as he mused +on all these possibilities. Perhaps Meade and Helen +might—who could tell? He sat silent, so far as he +could as host, during the latter part of the dinner, in +his turn seeing visions and dreaming dreams. There +was a contagion of that sort of thing around that +bridge, it would seem. +</p> + +<p> +After dinner the men went out on the observation +platform with their cigars and coffee. For those that +liked it there was something in tall glasses in which +ice tinkled when the glasses were agitated, but Meade +declined all three. +</p> + +<p> +"With your permission, sir," he said, "I am going to +take Miss Illingworth out on the bridge. The moon +is rising and——" +</p> + +<p> +"I have heard so much about it," said the girl, +standing by the door. "I want to see it when the workmen +are all off and it is all quiet, in the moonlight." +</p> + +<p> +"Very well," said the Colonel. "You will be careful +of her, Meade?" +</p> + +<p> +"I'll be more careful of her than we are of the bridge, +sir," was the prompt answer. +</p> + +<p> +"And you had better change your dress, Helen, before +you go," said the Colonel, turning to Abbott and +engaging him in conversation on technical matters. +</p> + +<p> +"I'll wait for you at the front door of the car," said +the engineer, his heart beating like a pneumatic riveter +and sounding almost as loud in his ears. +</p> + +<p> +As she turned to her stateroom he decided not to +break the delicious anticipation of the coming adventure +by talking about it to anyone or by seeing anyone +but her. He just wanted to wait for her alone in the +dark until she came, so he followed her down the +corridor to the other end. +</p> + +<p> +"I won't be long," she whispered as she left him. +</p> + +<p> +He took that with a grain of salt. A second that +she were away when she might have been with him, would +be a long time to him, he knew. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap04"></a></p> + +<h3> +IV +<br><br> +THE PORTAGE THROUGH THE DUST +</h3> + +<p> +Now Helen Illingworth did not want to waste +time any more than Bertram Meade did. It +was, of course, the height of foolishness for her +to explore a half-completed bridge, or an entirely +finished one for that matter, in an elaborate and expensive +dinner gown. But whatever her age or his they were +at that period of life and love in which, if ever, +humanity had a clear title to be foolish—and there you +are! +</p> + +<p> +Economy had not necessarily been inculcated in this +young woman's mind and although she prized the dress +it had served its purpose, since the man so obviously +highly approved of it and her. If she spoiled it she +spoiled it and that was all there was about it. She +dismissed that possibility promptly. There was +nothing else she could wear which was so exquisitely +becoming, anyway, and especially in the moonlight. So, +instead of taking her father's advice all she did was to +cover her beautiful shoulders with a light wrap, gather +the train of her gown in her hand and hasten to the +car door in the shortest possible time. She did not even +stop to change the light slippers and filmy stockings +she wore, satin and silk of the same delicate tint and +fabric to match her gown. It was a warm summer night +and she needed no covering except nature's golden +crowning on her head. +</p> + +<p> +Every moment they were apart, since the sum-total in +which they could be together was so small, was a +moment lost. What were all the dresses and slippers on +earth to the pressure of his hand, a glance from his +eyes? She was very much in love with him and he with +her then, and thereafter. +</p> + +<p> +"Now," she said, coming out of the door of the car +and descending the steps toward him, eagerly expectant, +"I want a prize for my swiftness." +</p> + +<p> +"A prize!" returned the man, "why, you've been +gone years and years and years. You have had time +to dress yourself a thousand times, and you haven't even +changed your gown. What have you been doing? How +have you idled away precious time you might have +bestowed upon me?" he concluded reprovingly in mock +severity. +</p> + +<p> +"I think that it's less than sixty seconds since you +said you would wait for me here," she laughed in +joyous satisfaction. +</p> + +<p> +"Of course, time seems shorter to you than it would +to me," was his cool reply. "It naturally would. +You don't have to wait for any man, things come +always to you." +</p> + +<p> +"If you can refer to me as a thing, Mr. Meade," +she replied, "in this instance I have come to you." +</p> + +<p> +"I thank heaven you have done so, but unfortunately +I shall have to dismiss you." +</p> + +<p> +"Dismiss me, why?" +</p> + +<p> +"You can't go out on a bridge in that gown and +those slippers, tramping over dirty tracks, piles of +steel, rough wooden planks, paint and——" +</p> + +<p> +"Can't I?" she said, "you just see." +</p> + +<p> +"Really haven't you got anything for rough work +that you could put on?" +</p> + +<p> +"I have a walking suit." +</p> + +<p> +"That would do." +</p> + +<p> +"But it would take me half an hour to get out of this +and into it and——" +</p> + +<p> +"I hate to see you spoil your dress," he said +uncertainly as she stopped. +</p> + +<p> +Really what gown on earth was worth half an hour of +her society? At least that is the way he felt about it, +and evidently she felt the same way. +</p> + +<p> +"It is settled, then," she said, slipping her arm +through his as they walked down the long wooden +platform near the siding. "You know," she continued, +feeling herself obliged to speak since he was so +portentously silent—ordinarily he was a fluent and ready man +but something had got hold of him now and he was as +shy and speechless as a boy—"You know," she went +on, "I have heard so much about that bridge and how +wonderful it is by moonlight that I rather felt that I +ought to dress the part when I came to inspect it under +such auspices." +</p> + +<p> +"What about me?" he asked. +</p> + +<p> +"You are dressed in the part, too," she continued, +"yours is the strength and the power and masculinity +of the bridge——" +</p> + +<p> +"While you are its grace and beauty," he concluded +as she hesitated. +</p> + +<p> +"I didn't like to say it myself and I won't admit +it is true, but——" +</p> + +<p> +"You don't have to admit it," he said quickly. "In +this half light you look as mystic and ethereal as——" +</p> + +<p> +"And how do I look in the whole light, pray?" +</p> + +<p> +"A trifle more substantial but not less beautiful and +winning," was the prompt answer. +</p> + +<p> +Really for a timid man, with women, he was doing +very well he thought, and so did she. +</p> + +<p> +"Do you prefer the ethereal woman, the dependent +woman of the mid-Victorian period to her self-sufficient +descendant of the present day?" +</p> + +<p> +"I like a woman to be all things not to all men, but +to me, at different times"—he ran the whole gamut +of feminine possibilities in his desires, it +seemed!—"There are times when the clinging mid-Victorian +'female' is the sweetest thing on earth to a man and +there are times when the woman who can march shoulder +to shoulder with you is the one woman you desire. +Tears, laughter, submission, mastery—a man wants a +woman in all her possible moods," he concluded +oracularly. +</p> + +<p> +"You want a great many things, it seems to me," she +retorted mockingly. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, but only one woman." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, you want her to be a great many things, then." +</p> + +<p> +"I just want her to be herself." +</p> + +<p> +Now Meade was perilously near that point when he +would describe his love if he ventured to discuss it +further in the words trite but true, "I love you +because you're you!" That is what he meant anyway, +and incidentally although our sense of humor even in +our tenderest moments may spare us from the banality +of the exact words, it is what all think and most say +in one way or another under such circumstances. +</p> + +<p> +"I hope some day you will meet this imaginary +creature of infinite variety," said the woman softly. +</p> + +<p> +"I hope so," was the somewhat surprising answer, at +which she was not a little chagrined. +</p> + +<p> +"You know you men have so many advantages over +poor womankind, you are free to go everywhere and pick +and choose," she went on, carefully concealing her +discomfiture. +</p> + +<p> +"To tell the truth, I have met the woman," the man +admitted. +</p> + +<p> +"Where, in Burma?" +</p> + +<p> +"In America." +</p> + +<p> +"America is a great country and there are a hundred +million people in it, possibly half of them my +sex. +</p> + +<p> +"Your statistics are sadly in error." +</p> + +<p> +"They are the latest, I believe." +</p> + +<p> +"The latest in this instance are wrong. The population +of America, as I see it, is only one." +</p> + +<p> +This was direct and unequivocal. He was gaining +courage, fast mastering his timidity. She was by way +of being swept off her feet, so that woman-like she +temporized. She changed the subject although it was +the subject nearest her heart and the one she most +wished to discuss; to wit, herself, in relation to him. +</p> + +<p> +They had now reached the end of the platform in +their slow progress, and as they turned about the +temporary station and storehouse before them rose the +bridge. The moon larger and more magnificent than +she had ever been before to either of them—for when, +since God set the night lights in the firmament, had there +ever been an evening like that?—was rising over the +high hills that sprang up from the steep cliff-like bank +of the other side of the vast river. They saw her round +red full face through an interlacing tracery of steel. +The lower part of the bridge was still in deep shadow. +Indeed the moon had just cleared the hills of the +opposite bank of the great gorge cut by the broad river +flowing swiftly in its darkness far below. +</p> + +<p> +The base of the truss was yet almost invisible and the +effect of the peak of the pyramid of steel brilliantly +gilded by the high light and rising out of dark nothing +was as wonderful as the picture of a mountain top +glowing in the setting sun while all the valley is sunk in +the ever deepening shadows. At the further end of the +suspended arm extending far over the water the top of +the traveler glistened in exactly the same way. The +cantilever on the opposite shore, incomplete and sunk +under a high rise of land, was still in shadow and not +yet discernible. +</p> + +<p> +Instinctively the two people stopped and gazed out +and up and across. Unwittingly the woman drew a little +near the man. He became more conscious than before +of the light touch of her hand upon his arm. It was +very still where they stood. The shacks of the workmen +had been erected below the bridge about a quarter +of a mile to the right along the banks of the little affluent +of the main stream. They could hear faint but +indistinguishable noises that yet indicated humanity coming +from that direction. The fires in the machine house and +in the engines were banked. Lazy curls of smoke rose +to be blown away in the limitless areas of the upper +air. In the darkness all the unsightly evidences of +construction work were hidden. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh," said the woman, drawing a long breath, "I +don't wonder that you love it. Isn't it beautiful, flung +up in the air that way? One would think it wasn't +steel but silver and gold and——" +</p> + +<p> +"Time was," said the man, "when I loved a thing +like that above everything except my father, but +now——" +</p> + +<p> +In spite of herself the woman looked at him. +</p> + +<p> +"But now?" she whispered as he hesitated, and +then she turned her head half fearful of his answer. +</p> + +<p> +"I am almost afraid to say it," he said, lowering +his voice to match her own. +</p> + +<p> +"A soldier of steel," she said, "and afraid!" +</p> + +<p> +"Well then, all that was the second now takes the +third place." +</p> + +<p> +"And before your father comes?" +</p> + +<p> +But she did not give him time to answer. Atalanta +cast the golden apples before Hippomenes, but she +delayed her pace while he picked them up. This girl +would and would not. She threw her golden personality +in his face, and when he reached for it she glided ahead +again. +</p> + +<p> +"Come," she said, "let us go out on the bridge." +</p> + +<p> +"It looks beautiful," said the man, "like most things +in the moonlight, but——" +</p> + +<p> +"Even women?" +</p> + +<p> +He nodded his head. +</p> + +<p> +"But appearances are deceptive," he went on. "It's +a rough place for you. Those little slippers you +wear——" +</p> + +<p> +He looked down and as if in obedience to his glance +she outthrust her foot from her gown. It was not the +smallest foot that ever upbore a woman. Quite the +contrary. Which is not saying it was too large, not at +all. It was just right for her height and figure, and +its shape and shoe left nothing to be desired. +</p> + +<p> +"Never mind the slippers," she said, "they are +stronger than they look. They'll serve." +</p> + +<p> +"But the distance between here and the bridge is +inches deep in dust." +</p> + +<p> +"Dust!" she exclaimed in dismay. "I don't mind +rough walking, but dust—— +</p> + +<p> +"I never thought of that," admitted the man. "The +fact is I have thought of nothing but you since I saw +you, but now we'll have to go back or——" +</p> + +<p> +"I shall not go back," she answered firmly. +</p> + +<p> +"Well then, there is no help for it, pardon me." +</p> + +<p> +He stepped down off the platform and before she +knew what he would be at he lifted her straight up in +his arms. He did not carry her like a baby, he held +her erect, crushed against his breast and before she had +time to utter a protest, or even to say a word, he started +through the dusty roadway toward the bridge-head. +</p> + +<p> +It was a strange position. There was nothing that +she could do. He clasped her with a grip of iron, too +tightly for her comfort, indeed, but the pressure he +put upon her was due entirely to his own nervousness. +She could not kick. She could not even move. Really +she did not wish to. It was respectful enough even if +a little absurd. What he was doing was so obviously +the proper thing to spare her dainty slippers and silk +stockings and other finery. And, if it were not, she +could not help liking it. She knew she ought to protest, +but the words did not come. While she was trying to +think them up they had crossed the little desert that +intervened between the portal of the bridge and the +end of the platform. Then he set her down gently. +She felt her feet strike solid plank and she was +distinctly sorry that the journey was ended, the crossing +had been made. +</p> + +<p> +Another woman might have reproved him then, just +as another woman might have screamed or tried to +kick or beaten him over the head <i>en route</i>. Her arms +had been free, but she had attempted none of these +things. Perhaps love, perhaps a sense of humor, or +both had saved her. He was glad to recognize the +difference between her and the ordinary member of the +sex. It flattered his discrimination that she had +accepted so coolly and quietly, outwardly at least, his +services as a matter of course. +</p> + +<p> +"Thank you," she said simply, "that was very nice +of you. You are wonderfully strong." +</p> + +<p> +Now a man's bodily strength is something for which +in a large measure he has no responsibility, for which +he can claim no merit, but there is no subtler form of +flattery that a woman may offer a man than to praise +him for physical prowess. He feels much more satisfaction +in being told that he has a strong arm than in +having it pointed out that he carries a great brain, and +Meade was pleased beyond measure. +</p> + +<p> +"It's nothing," he said, which was scarcely true, +because it was the greatest thing that had ever happened +to him so far. "Those shoes of yours will be ruined +on this planking, but at least there is little dust. If +my feet were not so enormous I——" +</p> + +<p> +Helen Illingworth laughed outright at the idea. +</p> + +<p> +"My own shoes will have to do me and if they are +ruined I can get another pair or a dozen." +</p> + +<p> +"Bad lookout for your husband, if he happens to be +a poor man." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, I wouldn't spend my husband's money as I do +my father's," laughed the young woman with that +indifference to father's money which is characteristic of +the relationship, the age, and the sex. +</p> + +<p> +"Could you be happy with a man who couldn't give +you dresses like this and slippers and——" +</p> + +<p> +"If I loved him I could be happy with him in rags," +was the reckless answer. +</p> + +<p> +They were now walking down the track on the floor +of the approach-span of the bridge. There were two +railroad tracks running out across the bridge to the +end over the river, and the space between the rails was +covered with rough planking. The man on guard at the +entrance recognized the engineer and, with a word of +greeting, the two adventurers passed him and marched +down the track. They had now reached the anchor +arm of the cantilever proper. On either side of them +rose the ribs of the huge diamond-shaped truss, one +point resting on the vast shoe on the pier and the other +point, both the center and focus of the radiating arms +of steel, far above their heads. +</p> + +<p> +The moon, by this time, had passed the floor level and +the cross bracing cast a network of shadows over them, +upon track and floor beams and stringers. The silence +of the half-light, the mystery of it all oppressed them +a little. It was with beating hearts that they pressed on. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap05"></a></p> + +<h3> +V +<br><br> +FALL AND REVELATION +</h3> + +<p> +"It's rather confused in here," said the man, "but +we will soon get out toward the end and then +the view is magnificent. You can see up and +down the river for miles and the night boat will be along +in a few minutes." +</p> + +<p> +"Isn't that it?" asked the woman, pointing up the +river to where a cluster of lights rounded a huge bend +not far away, and swung out in midstream. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said the man, "if we listen I think we can +hear her." +</p> + +<p> +They both stopped, and sure enough faintly across +the water came the noise of the clanking paddles of +the big river steamer. With that sound also mingled +the song of the night wind, for a wonder comparatively +gentle, making strange, weird harmonies as it sifted +through the taut and rigid bars of steel. She listened +enchanted with the sound. +</p> + +<p> +The big floor beams extended from one side to the +other of the bridge, between the trusses at intervals of +fifty feet. At right angles to them and six feet apart +the stringers ran lengthways parallel to the trusses. +Here and there pieces of timber false work had been +thrown across the stringers for the convenience of the +workmen, but as these two slowly moved toward +mid-stream at last these pieces became fewer and finally +there was nothing to be seen but the heavy floor beams +and the lighter stringers. +</p> + +<p> +After they passed the top of the pier and got beyond +the small space of river bank on which the pier was set, +there was nothing between them and the water, now +moonlit and quivering, except these cross girders of +steel on either hand beyond the planking in the tracks. +</p> + +<p> +"Have you a clear head?" asked the man. "I mean +does it affect you to be on high elevations? Do you +get dizzy?" +</p> + +<p> +"I never have," was the answer, "but——" +</p> + +<p> +"I think I'll hold you," was the reply. +</p> + +<p> +He grasped her firmly by the arm. The loose wrap +she was wearing over her shoulders did not cover her +arms and it was a bare arm that he took in his hand. +</p> + +<p> +"I beg your pardon," he said quickly, "but——" +</p> + +<p> +"It doesn't matter. I understand. You would +better hold me, I might slip." +</p> + +<p> +She was in fact as clear-headed as any woman on +earth. She had stood alone and unsupported on the +brink of precipices a thousand feet high, yet her heart +had not beaten then as it was beating now and she had +never felt the need of support before. There was +something electric and compelling in the pressure of his +strong hand upon the firm flesh of her round arm. She +shrank closer to him, again unthinkingly, by a natural +impulse. +</p> + +<p> +The moon was now well clear of the brow of the +highest hill. Its yellow was turning to silver and in its +cold and beautiful illumination the whole river flowed +bright beneath them. Every inch of the bridge was now +clearly revealed in the white passionless light. +</p> + +<p> +Their progress was now checked by a flat car, +fortunately partially unloaded, which had been left on the +track before them when the men knocked off work. +They would complete its unloading in the morning. If +Meade had been alone he would have crossed on one of +the floor beams to the other track, but that was not to +be thought of in the case of Helen Illingworth. +</p> + +<p> +"Too bad," he said in deep disappointment, "I suppose +we shall have to go back. I'll rout out one of the +engine-drivers and get him to pull this car out of the +way——" +</p> + +<p> +"Can't you climb that car?" +</p> + +<p> +"Certainly I can." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, so can I if you help me." +</p> + +<p> +"I'll help you this way," said Meade, having acquired +a certain facility from his previous performance, as he +lifted her up to the low platform of the truck, lower +by the way than the level of an ordinary railroad car. +Placing his hand upon it he vaulted to her side. They +walked across it quickly, choosing the side that had been +unloaded of its burden of iron for their path. +</p> + +<p> +"Wait," said Meade as they reached its end. +</p> + +<p> +He sprang down to the track and as she leaned +forward he lifted her down also. Fifty feet away the +bridge ended in the air. They were now almost directly +beneath the traveler near the end of the suspended +span. Its huge legs sprawled out like those of a +gigantic animal on the extreme edges of the bridge on either +side above their heads. The wooden platform on the +track ran out half the distance to the bridge end. +Slowly the two walked along it until but a few feet was +left between them and the naked floor beams and the +stringers carrying the ties to which the rails were bolted +and the planks laid. +</p> + +<p> +By the side of the track on the top of the stringers +had been placed a pile of material surmounted by a +large flat plate of steel which lay level upon it. It +was triangular in shape, the blunt point turned inward. +The base which was about six feet wide paralleled the +course of the river. The plate on the top of the pile +was raised about three feet above the level of the track. +They stopped abreast of it. +</p> + +<p> +"Can't we go any further?" asked the girl in low +tones, still close to the young man, who still tightly +clasped her arm. +</p> + +<p> +It was a night and time in which to speak softly. Yet +a whisper would not serve. Indeed there was always +wind in the gorge and out there on the end of the bridge. +It might be never so still on the shore but there was +always a current of air where they were and it seemed +to be coming stronger. The sound of it overhead was +louder, and less pleasing. There was a threat in its +notes as it swept through the steel. Her dress was +whipped about her by its force. The drapery which +she wore about her shoulders blew against him. She +drew it around her with her free hand and looked at +him for her answer. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm afraid it wouldn't be safe to go any further," +he said. +</p> + +<p> +"But I must, I want to see the steamer." +</p> + +<p> +"It will pass directly under the bridge." +</p> + +<p> +"But this wooden platform will hide it, this and the +pile of steel here." +</p> + +<p> +"They have no business to pass under the bridge," +said Meade. "They've been warned hundreds of times +and orders have been issued." +</p> + +<p> +"Why?" +</p> + +<p> +"There is always danger that something might fall." +</p> + +<p> +"At night with no one working?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, even at night. We are never quite sure that +everything has been made secure until we examine it. +A bolt or a nut or a bar of steel or a tool, to say +nothing of a beam, falling from such a height would kill +anyone and the beam might sink the steamer, but they +still come as near as they like. The passengers seem +to wish it and the captains humor them. Besides the +best water and the least current to fight against seem +to be just under the bridge end yonder." +</p> + +<p> +"Can't we go just a few steps nearer?" +</p> + +<p> +"I would not have anything happen to you for the +bridge itself and all the rest of the world." +</p> + +<p> +"You couldn't say more than that, could you?" +</p> + +<p> +"I could say much more than that if I——" +</p> + +<p> +But she interrupted him again. +</p> + +<p> +"Why can't I stand up there?" +</p> + +<p> +"On that gusset plate?" +</p> + +<p> +"Is that what you call it?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, it bears the same relation to structural steel +that a gusset does to a woman's dress. I don't suppose +you know how to make a dress?" +</p> + +<p> +"Do I not? You don't know that I have done some +settlement work, do you?" +</p> + +<p> +"No, but I am not surprised to find that you have +done anything good and useful and beautiful." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, it's hardly that last, but as it happens I +could make a dress if——" +</p> + +<p> +"If what?" +</p> + +<p> +"If I were a poor man's wife and had to." +</p> + +<p> +She laughed a little nervously. +</p> + +<p> +"A dress like the one you are wearing?" he asked. +</p> + +<p> +"Hardly that," she laughed again. "It took an +artist to do that, and I would not want one like it in +that case. I am only at best a plain sewer." +</p> + +<p> +"Plain!" persisted he fatuously. +</p> + +<p> +"Exactly. But can't I stand on that?" +</p> + +<p> +"Wait," he answered. +</p> + +<p> +He climbed to the center of it, lifted himself up and +down on his feet to test it and found it solid apparently. +</p> + +<p> +"I think so," he said at last, "but I shall have to put +you up." +</p> + +<p> +"Am I never to be allowed to climb anything myself?" +she asked as he lifted her up and set her down +on her feet in the middle of the plate of steel as gently +as before. +</p> + +<p> +"Not when I am by to help you," was his reply. +</p> + +<p> +"Perhaps you do not know that I am one of the few +women who have done some real mountain climbing?" +</p> + +<p> +"I don't know anything at all about you except that +I——" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, there comes the steamer," she cried. "I can +see it beautifully from here." +</p> + +<p> +"Be careful," was his answer, "you must not move. +Stand perfectly steady. I am not so sure of that plate. +Indeed, if you will permit me——" +</p> + +<p> +He reached over from where he stood on the track +below her and by her side and gathered the material of +her dress into what could only be described as a bunch, +which he held in an iron grasp. +</p> + +<p> +"I do not think that is necessary," she said. "This +plate seems as solid as the rest of the bridge and—oh, +there's the steamer! She's right under us." +</p> + +<p> +The big river craft was filled with light and laughter. +The wind fortunately blew the smoke away from the +bridge so that they had a clear and perfect view of her. +There was a band playing aboard her. They heard +the music above the beat of the whirling paddles, the +song of the rising wind. The passengers were +congregated about the rails on the upper decks staring +upward. The bridge was as fascinating to them as it +was to the people ashore evidently. +</p> + +<p> +"How interesting," said the delighted girl. "Why +don't you come up here yourself, you can see so much +better?" +</p> + +<p> +The man dropped her gown, lifted his right foot to +the pile on the stringers to follow her suggestion. +Thoughtlessly she stepped toward the outer end to +give him room, quite forgetful of his caution. The +gusset plate was not so securely bedded on that uneven +pile as either of them had fancied. Before he could +complete his step or warn her of the danger, it now +bent forward. It tilted distinctly. In spite of herself, +Helen Illingworth was carried still farther forward as +in her excitement she sought to regain her balance and +that disturbed the unstable equilibrium of the piece of +steel still more. It began to slip downward, grating on +the pile of beams as it moved; another second and it +would be off and on its way irrevocably. +</p> + +<p> +Meade threw himself at the girl. He lunged out +and caught her just as she was slipping downward +with the plate now almost perpendicular. To catch her +he had to step to the very edge of the planking beyond +which the rails ran naked on the ties. +</p> + +<p> +With a tremendous effort he caught her by the waist +and swung her up and in and backward. Fortunately +the hypothenuse of the plate ran away from the pier +or it might have swept her down in spite of all he could +do. As it was he caught her furiously to his breast and +stood fast on the brink quivering, heaving himself +desperately backward as he sought to maintain his balance +and take the backward step that meant safety. +</p> + +<p> +Neither of them had said a word. A wild shout rose +from the steamer as the huge plate dropped, like the +blade of a mighty guillotine, straight down through the +air. The floor plane of the bridge was two hundred +feet above the water. The heavy piece of steel, weighing +hundreds of pounds, was traveling with the velocity +of a lightning flash when it neared the water. If +it had struck the boat it would have cut it through like +a knife. Fortunately it cleared the gangway by inches. +In a second or more it had disappeared. Screams, +shouts, arose from the boat which promptly sheered off +into midstream. +</p> + +<p> +Helen Illingworth's back had been toward Meade as +he seized her. She had seen as he had everything +that happened. Recovering himself at last he stepped +back slowly, almost dragging her, until they were a safe +distance from the edge. +</p> + +<p> +"My God," he said hoarsely. "What a narrow escape." +</p> + +<p> +"For the boat?" +</p> + +<p> +"What do I care for the boat?" +</p> + +<p> +"For me?" +</p> + +<p> +"I thought you were gone." +</p> + +<p> +"And so I should have been if you had not been there." +</p> + +<p> +"If you had gone down I should have followed you, +I swear." +</p> + +<p> +His face was ghastly white in the moonlight. Sweat +covered his forehead. He was shaking like a wind-blown +leaf both on account of the strain of his sudden and +terrific effort, and because of the reaction from the +horror that had overwhelmed him as he saw her sliding. +</p> + +<p> +"The whole world went black when I saw you go," +he said slowly. +</p> + +<p> +"Do you care that much?" asked the girl, trembling +herself. +</p> + +<p> +There was no necessity for maidenly reticence now. +</p> + +<p> +"Care?" said the man, "care?" +</p> + +<p> +"I'm all right now." +</p> + +<p> +"You are more fortunate than I. I stood to lose +you, you stood to lose only life. Don't you see? Can't +you understand? My God!" +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly he swept her to his breast as this time she +faced him. She was very near him and she did not +make the slightest resistance. It was the fourth time +he had taken her in his arms that night, but this time +there was all the difference in the world. +</p> + +<p> +She had waited for this hour and she was glad. They +had faced death too nearly for any hesitation now. She +knew from what he had said to her that he loved her, +and although he had not referred to it in any way she +also knew that he had so superbly and magnificently +saved her at the imminent risk of his own life. There +had been swift yet eternal moments when it seemed that +both of them, trembling on the brink, would follow the +downward rush of the gusset plate. Now as he strained +her to him, she lifted her face to him, glad that she was +tall enough for him to kiss her with so slight a bend +of the head. +</p> + +<p> +There, under the great trusses of steel, amid the +huge, gaunt, massive evidences of the power, of the +might, of the mastery of man, two hearts spoke to each +other in the silence, and told the story that was old +before the first smelter had ever turned the first ore +into the first bit of iron, before Tubal Cain ever smote +the anvil; the story of love that began with creation, +that will outlast all the iron in all the hills of the +earth—that is as eternal as it is divine! +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap06"></a></p> + +<h3> +VI +<br><br> +THEY CROSS THE BRIDGE TOGETHER +</h3> + +<p> +Ordinarily Meade's head was as clear as the +air of a mountain top, his nerves as steady as +the steel of the great bridge, but that night +after the shock he had sustained he was almost afraid +to attempt to return to the shore along the planks laid +between the rails. No experience that he had ever gone +through had so completely unnerved him. It was then +the woman who played the man's part. As he said, all +she had faced was loss of life; that was a simple thing +in his mind compared to the loss of her; extravagant, +foolish, if you will, but true. +</p> + +<p> +He blamed himself, too, for having allowed her to +climb up on that gusset plate. To be sure he had +tested it, but, as the event proved, he had not tested +it as thoroughly as he should. Indeed, the fact that +the most precious thing on earth to him, the being he +loved above all else together, had been nearly killed +through his lack of care, his failure absolutely to make +sure, smote him terribly. He strove, at first vainly, to +control himself, but presently by the exercise of as +iron a constraint as was ever imposed on nerves by the +will of man, he succeeded in attaining some degree of +composure. +</p> + +<p> +After that wild embrace, that first rapturous meeting +of lips, he had released her slightly, though he still held +her closely and she had been quite content to be so +arm-encircled and await his further pleasure. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm quite calm, now," he began, "that is, I have +mastered that awful horror and the nervous shock that +came upon me when I saw you sliding away, and I am +as composed as any man could be who is holding you +in his arms." +</p> + +<p> +"It's all over now, there is nothing to reproach yourself +with. I am safe, thanks to you. I should not have +ventured, anyway." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, but if it had not been for me you would never +have been in danger. It was my fault. I should have +made sure. I shall never forgive myself." +</p> + +<p> +"But I forgive you gladly because I shall never +forget that if I had not been in danger I might not now +be here in your arms." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh," exclaimed the man, "how sweetly you put +it—nevertheless——" +</p> + +<p> +"And if I were not here," she went on swiftly, too +happy in her love to be mindful of anything else, "I +certainly would not be doing—this." +</p> + +<p> +And of her own motion she kissed him in the moonlight. +</p> + +<p> +"And if you were not doing this," said he, making +the proper return, "I might not have had the courage +to tell you." +</p> + +<p> +"You haven't told me anything—in words," she +answered, fain to hear from his lips what she well knew +from the beating of his heart. +</p> + +<p> +"It's not too late then to tell you that I love you, that +I am yours. To give myself to you seems to be the +highest possibility in life, if you will only take me." +</p> + +<p> +"And do you love me more than the bridge?" +</p> + +<p> +"More than all the bridges in the world, past, present +and to come; more than anything or anybody. I +tell you I never knew what love was or what life was +until I saw you sliding to your death." +</p> + +<p> +Sometimes only death opens the eyes to the meaning +of life. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm glad I fell just as far as I did." +</p> + +<p> +"One foot more and you would have been in the river." +</p> + +<p> +"As it was I stopped just at the level of your heart." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, thank God." +</p> + +<p> +"And your own quickness and noble strength." +</p> + +<p> +"I thought I was too late when we trembled on +yonder verge." +</p> + +<p> +"Do you know you actually hurt me when you swept +me so roughly to you, not but that there are some pains +that surpass all joys." +</p> + +<p> +"There was no time for gentle measures." +</p> + +<p> +"I know, and I knew I was safe when you caught me. +Somehow I expected you would do it. I knew that you +would not let me fall." +</p> + +<p> +"If I had not succeeded I should have followed you." +</p> + +<p> +"I felt that, too," she answered dreamily. +</p> + +<p> +"We must go back, dearest," he said at last, "I am +so fearful for you even now that I am almost unwilling +to try it. Every time I glance down through these +interspaces between the stringers my blood runs cold." +</p> + +<p> +"You supported me before; I will support you now," +laughed the woman. +</p> + +<p> +"No," said the man, "we will go together." +</p> + +<p> +They turned toward the shore. He took her hand +and slipped his other arm about her just as simply and +naturally as if they had been any humble lover and his +lass in the countryside. +</p> + +<p> +"No place on earth will ever be what this bridge is +to me," said the woman. "I knew you loved me, of +course, at least I hoped so; at any rate I knew that I +loved you——" +</p> + +<p> +"I never dared dream that you could." +</p> + +<p> +"But here the words were first spoken, here you first +took me to your heart, here you kissed me first." She +stopped and he with her, she flung her free hand up in +the air. The moonlight fell softly upon her sweetly +rounded arm. "Oh, beautiful bridge, oh, exquisite +creation of stone and steel, you have gives my lover to +me. The wind will never blow through you, the moon +will never shine upon you without recalling that," she +cried rapturously. She waited a moment while his heart +whispered amen. "Let us go," she said reluctantly +enough, loath to leave the place where death had +stretched out his hand and love held him back. +</p> + +<p> +"One more kiss," he pleaded, "and then——" +</p> + +<p> +By and by they got to the end of the bridge. +</p> + +<p> +"I shall carry you across the dust once again," he +said as they passed out of sight of the watchman, who +had seen the falling plate and heard it splash into the +river; but being a discreet man and realizing that the +engineer and the woman were safe he had made no outcry. +Meade thereafter properly rewarded him for his +discretion. +</p> + +<p> +This time he held her differently. This time she +slipped her arm about his neck and laid her head upon +his breast and he carried her as he might have carried a +child. When he set her down on the station platform, +now quite deserted, they both discovered first that she +had lost the light wrap that had shrouded her bare +shoulders and next that in the violence with which he had +seized her as she fell, the skirt of her dress, which had +caught on a piece of steel, had been rent and torn. It +did not affect her appearance, in fact in that moonlight, +she looked positively heavenly to him at least. +</p> + +<p> +Far down the platform they could see the lights of the +car. +</p> + +<p> +"Listen," she said as they walked slowly along. +"You must not tell father anything about this little +accident." +</p> + +<p> +"I obey, but why not?" +</p> + +<p> +"It would only worry him, and it was my fault." +</p> + +<p> +"No, mine." +</p> + +<p> +"I will not hear you say it." +</p> + +<p> +"But I must speak to your father about——" +</p> + +<p> +"And the sooner the better; he is in good humor +with you and the bridge now. I have heard him speak +well of you. He is intensely American and he has +never been anxious to have me marry any foreign title, +or even the fortune hunters of our own country who +have wooed me. I believe he will be glad to give me +to you." +</p> + +<p> +"And if not?" +</p> + +<p> +"I should hate to grieve my father, but——" +</p> + +<p> +She turned and looked at him in the moonlight, her +glorious golden head, her neck, her shoulders, her arms +bare and beautiful in the celestial illumination which +gave to the warm flesh a touch of coldness, and mingled +purity with the passion she inspired and exhibited which +made it almost holy in both their hearts. +</p> + +<p> +He seized her hand and lifted it to his lips as a +devotee, and she understood the reason for the little +touch of old-world formality and reserve, when nought +but his will prevented him from taking her to his heart +and making her lips, her eyes, her face, his own. +</p> + +<p> +"Now may God deal with me as I deal with you," he +said fervently, "if I ever fail at least to try with all +my heart and soul and strength to measure up to your +sweetness and light." +</p> + +<p> +"My prayer for myself, too," she whispered. +"You need it not." +</p> + +<p> +"You must wait here," she said, deeply touched, as +they had now reached the steps of the car, "until I have +changed my dress; father would notice, anybody would, +that tear. When I have finished I will come back to you +and then we will seek him and tell him." +</p> + +<p> +Accordingly Meade stood obediently waiting outside +the car in the shadow it cast. There was no one about. +The servants had gone to bed. The porter of the car +was nodding in his quarters waiting for the time to +turn out the lights. The engineer had the long platform +all to himself. After a time he chose to walk quietly +up and down, thinking. The future looked very fair +to him. To be sure he had nearly lost the woman he +loved in the river, and it had been his fault. He +overlooked the fact that she had disregarded his caution +and stepped forward. But after all she had not fallen. +He had caught her on the very brink. He could +remember, he never would forget, those seconds, like +hours, when he stood trembling, even swaying, upon the +very edge of the bridge, with practically nothing but +his precarious foothold between the two of them and +the awful plunge into the river two hundred feet below. +He could not think how he managed to retain his balance +and draw her back with him, away from that perilous +standing place; but he had done so and the result had +been the confession which he had dared to make and to +which she had vouchsafed that blessed return. +</p> + +<p> +If only her father could see in him any fitness to be +trusted with so priceless a treasure all would be well. +Meade had never made a failure in his life, except in +small ways which had only been of sufficient importance +to teach him to cope with greater difficulties. His career +had been practically one unbroken success. He had +acquired a remarkably fine reputation for so young a +man in his profession and he had gained it, not only +because of his father's great eminence, but in spite of +it; for the paternal renown had been something of a +handicap in that he had at least been compelled to live +up to it. +</p> + +<p> +There are few tasks so hard as living up to a reputation, +unless it is living one down. He was about to fall +heir to such of his father's business and prestige as the +one could transfer and the other take up. The great +bridge was rising grandly and even he would share in +the fame that it would bring to its designer. His +forebodings had been unwarranted, his father's reasoning +abundantly justified. He was glad. The woman he loved +returned his affection. When she might have had anyone +in the world she took—him! If only her father—— +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap07"></a></p> + +<h3> +VII +<br><br> +THE COLONEL MAKES CONDITIONS +</h3> + +<p> +"Bert," a sweet voice came to him out of the +darkness, and the first familiar sound of his +name from her lips confirmed all that had +passed which, as he had waited, he almost had felt he +had dreamed. +</p> + +<p> +He turned to discover her standing in the door of +the car dressed as she should have been for such an +excursion had she at first followed her father's wise +suggestion. His heart thrilled to the use of the familiar +name. With a sort of boyish shyness he made answer in +kind. +</p> + +<p> +"Helen," he said, "shall I come up there?" +</p> + +<p> +"I'm coming down to you." +</p> + +<p> +Now whether she was afflicted with sudden weakness +or he with sudden fear, it was quite apparent, had +anyone been by to see, that no longer could she descend +from car step to platform without much careful assistance; +also she had to pay toll before he let her pass. +There was no unwillingness in either case. Hand-in-hand +they walked to the rear of the car, where the +observation platform was still brightly lighted. +</p> + +<p> +Abbott had gone and the other three men were on their +feet. They were about to separate for the night, +although it was still rather early. +</p> + +<p> +"Father," said his daughter out of the darkness. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, you're there," answered the Colonel. "I wondered +when you were coming back. I was just thinking +of going to fetch you. Is Mr. Meade——?" +</p> + +<p> +"I'm here, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"Good-night, gentlemen," said the Colonel as the +others turned away, leaving him alone on the platform. +</p> + +<p> +He came to the edge and leaned over the brass railing. +</p> + +<p> +"Are you two going to make a night of it?" he +asked jocosely. +</p> + +<p> +"Colonel Illingworth," began Meade. +</p> + +<p> +"Father," said his daughter at the same time, "we +have something to say to you." +</p> + +<p> +"Umph," said the Colonel, staring down at them +narrowly as they stepped into the full light from the +dome of the platform. "Something to say to me, eh?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes." +</p> + +<p> +The old man's face fell a little as every father's face +falls when his daughter and the man obviously in love +with her make that statement. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, say it and be done with it," he continued, +clamping his teeth on his cigar a trifle nervously. +</p> + +<p> +"We can't say it with you there and we here. Come +down, and——" +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Illingworth opened the gate, lifted the +platform, and descended the steps. +</p> + +<p> +"Here I am," he said as he stopped by the two. +</p> + +<p> +His daughter took him by the arm and they walked +down the platform so as to be out of any possible +hearing from the car. +</p> + +<p> +"Now," she said to Meade, who followed her. +</p> + +<p> +His heart was beating almost as rapidly as it had +on the bridge and for exactly the same reason—fear of +losing her. He tried to speak. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, young man?" said Illingworth, flicking the +ashes from his cigar and wishing to get it over, "you +said you had something to say to me." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, sir, I have." +</p> + +<p> +"Why don't you say it, then?" +</p> + +<p> +"It's a very hard thing to say, sir." He looked +helplessly at the girl, but she was speechless. It was +his task. If she were not worth asking for she was not +worth having, she might have said. "Well, sir," he +began desperately, "I love your daughter, Helen. I +want to marry her." +</p> + +<p> +"Umph," said the Colonel again, "I supposed as +much. How long have you and Helen known each other?" +</p> + +<p> +"Over a year, sir, but I loved her from the very +moment I saw her. I did not dare hope, I didn't dream, +I never imagined, and strange as it may seem, sir, +she—seems to love me." +</p> + +<p> +"Seems?" exclaimed the girl softly. +</p> + +<p> +"Wait, Helen," said her father, "this is a matter +for me and Mr. Meade." +</p> + +<p> +"And am I to have nothing to say?" +</p> + +<p> +"It strikes me that you have probably had your say +already." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, on the bridge," burst forth the engineer. +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, on the bridge! I see. Are you sure she loves +you enough to be your wife?" +</p> + +<p> +"I—you see—er—a——" +</p> + +<p> +"Of course I do," said Helen, realizing that it was +now high time for her to come to the rescue of her +lover, "and so would any other woman." +</p> + +<p> +"You know, of course, that while I am not rich, I +am not poor and I can support my wife in every +comfort, sir," urged the man, greatly relieved by the +woman's prompt avowal. +</p> + +<p> +"She'll need a few luxuries besides, I'm thinking." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, of course, sir, I'll see that she gets them. This +bridge is going to make us all famous and I shall have +my father's influence and——" +</p> + +<p> +"When the bridge is finished," said the Colonel +decisively, "come to me and you shall have my +daughter." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, father, the bridge won't be finished for——" +began the girl. +</p> + +<p> +"I accept your terms gladly," said the man, realizing +that in any event they would have to wait for +the bridge. "It's in the contract that we are to deliver +it complete before the first of November." +</p> + +<p> +"And that's not far off," Colonel Illingworth +reminded his daughter. +</p> + +<p> +"If it is left to me, sir, and I can stir up Abbott, +we will be ahead of the contract date," said Meade. +</p> + +<p> +"You understand, of course, that there is to be no +public announcement of the engagement until the bridge +is finished," the older man said emphatically. +</p> + +<p> +"I understand, sir," answered the engineer, too happy +at her father's consent to make any difficulties over any +reasonable conditions he might impose. "Yes, Helen, +it's all right, your father is right. This job's got to +be done before I——" +</p> + +<p> +"Don't say before you tackle another," protested +the girl, half disappointed, and yet seeing the reasonableness +of both men, while the Colonel laughed grimly. +</p> + +<p> +"That's about the size of it," said the old man, "no +matter how you put it. One thing at a time. Meade +has this bridge on his soul, and he ought to have it, and +although he may have you on his heart he must forget +that until the bridge is completed and then—well, +Meade, you'll be coming into our employ and I don't +know anybody on earth I would rather have for my +son-in-law than a clean, honest, able American with a record +like yours. A man who can look me in the eye and +grasp me by the hand, like this." +</p> + +<p> +He put out his hand as he spoke. Meade's own palm +met it and the two men shook hands unemotionally but +firmly after the manner of the self-restrained practical +American, who is always fearful of a scene and does not +wear his heart upon his sleeve. The Colonel threw away +his cigar, slipped his arm around his daughter's waist, +kissed her softly on the forehead. +</p> + +<p> +"I hate to lose you, Helen. I hate to give you up +to anyone. We have been very happy together since +your mother died, leaving you a little girl to me; but it +had to come, I suppose, and perhaps I shall be glad in +the end. Good-night, Meade. You will be coming in +presently, Helen?" +</p> + +<p> +He turned and walked away as they answered him. +They watched him go slowly with bended head. They +watched him climb, rather heavily, up the steps of the +car—that he was an old man seemed rather suddenly +borne in upon them. He stood for a moment in the +light smiling, remembering, and then turned and +marched within the car. He switched the light out as +he passed down the corridor. +</p> + +<p> +"Wasn't he splendid?" said Helen, when she had +time to breathe and freedom to speak. +</p> + +<p> +"One of the finest old men on earth," continued +Meade. "He and father would make a great team +and——" +</p> + +<p> +"You and I another," she said quickly. +</p> + +<p> +"If I could only live up to you there wouldn't be a +pair since Adam and Eve like us." +</p> + +<p> +"But it's so long to wait for the bridge. I hate to +have my fate bound up in iron and steel." +</p> + +<p> +"It will be ages," said the man, "and yet your father +is right. My father and I have undertaken to put this +bridge across and we have to do it. Our honor is +pledged. I'll think more of that bridge now since its +completion means you. And every blow of riveter or +hammer, every grinding of steel on steel, every creak +of winches, will say to me, '<i>Hurry up, old man, hurry +up; your girl is waiting for you when the great spans +are completed and the river is crossed.</i>' What an +inspiration that will be for me." +</p> + +<p> +"I was interested in the bridge, before," said the +woman, "but think how I shall watch it now. You +must write me every day and tell me every inch that +you have gained." +</p> + +<p> +"Trust me, I'll measure it in millimeters." +</p> + +<p> +"And now, sweet love, good-night," she whispered. +</p> + +<p> +"I shall see you in the morning?" +</p> + +<p> +"If father attempts to run this train away without +letting me see you again he will have to leave me +behind," she laughed as she looked back at him through +the door. +</p> + +<p> +Meade did not want to leave the car. He would +fain stand on the platform near it all night long. It +was completely dark except for her stateroom, where +trickles of light came from around the close-drawn +curtains. He did wait until that room was dark also before +he went to his shack, which was built on the high land +so that it faced the bridge. He could see it from the +window. He lay there watching it, that bridge in which +was bound up his love, his life, his fortune. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap08"></a></p> + +<h3> +VIII +<br><br> +THE LOVERS MAKE PICTURES ON PAPER AND HEART +</h3> + +<p> +The next morning bright and early—adjectives +that refer not only to the morning, but to the +man and, as we shall see, to the woman—Meade +hurried down the platform he had traversed late +and slowly because he was leaving her the night before. +The men were not yet called to work, they had not +had their breakfasts even. The sun had just risen. +He did not expect to see anyone at that hour at the +private car toward which he stepped softly, he just +wanted to be there so he could be near the woman whom, +in spite of the fact that they were separated by the +steel and glass walls of the car, he still could feel in his +arms. +</p> + +<p> +We all know the proverb about the early bird and +the worm. It seems almost ungallant even to think +it in this instance, but Bertram Meade certainly caught +Helen Illingworth because he was on hand at the break +of day. She too had been moved to early rising, for as +he stopped abreast of the car she came from the door +and stood surprised and, like Aurora, rosy with the +dawn, especially in cheeks, if an adjective so common as +rosy may be applied to the flush of color that flamed +beneath her sensitive skin as she saw him and came +down to him. +</p> + +<p> +He had not expected to see her and she had not +expected to see him, and it was necessary for both of +them to make elaborate explanations each to the other of +this indubitable fact. Explanations are said to be +dangerous; not, however, is that true when they are +sandwiched between kisses. If you rise early enough, that +is before anybody else, you may kiss unobserved by the +world; and if you do it softly, even while you stand +under the open window of a car behind the curtain of +which a father nods, you may do it with impunity. +</p> + +<p> +When a brief period of sanity ensued—"I came out +to see the bridge," said the girl. +</p> + +<p> +"I had a sweeter object in view than any structures +of stone and steel." +</p> + +<p> +"Knowing man as I do, I infer——" began the +woman archly. +</p> + +<p> +"Your deductive powers, like yourself, are beyond +praise," he interrupted. +</p> + +<p> +"Some lady in the field?" she concluded. +</p> + +<p> +"In the car." +</p> + +<p> +"But you couldn't see me," she began, with dismay +well assumed. +</p> + +<p> +"In my mind's eye I can see nothing else, not even +the bridge. When I look at that bridge the sound of +your voice speaks to me in every whisper of the wind +through the steel. I can hear the swish of the silk of +your dress, the grind of the slipping gusset as I did last +night. I can recall the beating of your heart as I +caught you and we stood rocking on the very edge. It +would not have been such a bad death after all," he +continued, "for we would have gone down together and +the last beat of each heart would have been against the +last beat of the other." +</p> + +<p> +The woman looked at him. The gay badinage with +which they had begun suddenly seemed inappropriate. +</p> + +<p> +"It's better to live together," she said softly, "even +than to die together." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, of course. But I am not sure of——" +</p> + +<p> +"Me?" +</p> + +<p> +"Of myself. I don't see how such happiness can +come to me. I've done nothing to deserve it." +</p> + +<p> +"You're making the bridge." +</p> + +<p> +"A man might make a million bridges and not be +worthy of one woman like you." +</p> + +<p> +"I told you last night that to hear you say that, +even though it is not true and I know it isn't——" +she went on, stopping his protest with her hand lightly +touching his lips. +</p> + +<p> +"I didn't make it half strong enough," he interposed, +kissing her fingers. +</p> + +<p> +"It was worth all the risk and I don't know why +you have any fears. I belong to you now. If it hadn't +been for you I shouldn't have been here at all. My life +is yours by right of conquest." +</p> + +<p> +"Only for that?" cried the man. +</p> + +<p> +"And by my heart's gift as well," she added softly. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh," said Meade, "I can't understand it. It's beyond me." +</p> + +<p> +He looked at her, fresh, white, sweet, cool, lovely, +and then at himself, rough, rugged, stark, strong. Now +Helen Illingworth was not fragile or delicate, but one +of the charms of woman is that if she wills she can +easily look that which she is not, on occasion. He knew +that she was a strong, vigorous young woman, yet it +pleased him to think of her then as a flower, spirituelle, +daintily dependent. She looked the part and she acted +it too, because she divined his wish. +</p> + +<p> +She laid her hand on his arm. The light pressure +which thrilled him telegraphed dependence, abandonment, +trust, through the fibers of his being to his very +soul. He looked down at her hand. It was not the +smallest thing on earth. It was the firm hand of the +splendid woman. It fell upon his arm lightly, not with +the delicate touch of the hand of little use, but with a +pressure of beautiful proportion and womanly tenderness. +</p> + +<p> +Yet it seemed to him smaller than he imagined a +woman's hand could be and the hand with which he +clasped hers appeared huge and rough indeed. And it +seemed so to her, too, his hand that is, yet the qualities +that he deprecated in his own hands were those that she +admired. She, too, was conscious of the difference +between her fleecy lightness and his severe strength. +</p> + +<p> +They walked up and down the platform between the +bridge and the car, her hand still on his arm. By no +mental process whatsoever could one conclude that she +really needed support or that he actually gave it, yet +both agreed on those points. Love, like Gratiano, +speaketh an infinite deal of nothing, but unlike the +Venetian the conversers treasure the lightest word. +They were both to live on the remembrance of the glorious +trivialities, from the world's point of view, of last +night and that morning. Yes, they were destined to live +on those, far, far longer than they dreamed. +</p> + +<p> +So pacing up and down they came at last to stop +beside the car. There were signs of life about it. They +passed by it to the observation platform. Meade +climbed up, opened the gate, let down the step, and +helped his lady-love up. She invited him to breakfast, +preparations for which were already under way. He +had not thought about it and neither had she, although +they were both possessed of healthy appetites, but it +was an excuse for a further exchange of the limitless +variety of trifles which make up the secret and beloved +part of our most cherished recollections. +</p> + +<p> +They sat together in the camp chairs talking and +gazing their full. No ideas were ever so wonderful to +her as his; nor to him, as hers. They had begun to plan +their future on the completion of the bridge. They +would go abroad when they were married. He had been +everywhere and seen everything, and so had she, but +now they would see them together. It would be quite +different. Life would begin with the completion of the +bridge. +</p> + +<p> +A pencil and a piece of paper lay on the little table +which had been left on the platform the night before. +So still had been the summer night that the paper had +not been disturbed by breeze or human hand. When +Helen Illingworth rose to press the electric button to +summon an attendant Meade picked up the scrap and—by +what chance who knew, since he had not taken his +eyes from her throughout the long morning, not even +when she told him to look at the bridge—he glanced +down at the paper. She turned to find him looking at +it with wrinkled brow. +</p> + +<p> +"What is this?" he asked. +</p> + +<p> +"What is what?" she returned with a little jealousy, +for it was the first moment of attention he had given to +anything but to her. +</p> + +<p> +He held it up to her. She saw a curious little +sketch on the paper made with some care so as to show +four huge webs of steel connected at the top and +bottom by lacings of steel angles. +</p> + +<p> +"It looks like part of the bridge," she announced +with a glance downward. +</p> + +<p> +"It is a part of the bridge," he said promptly. +"It is one of the big compression members of the lower +chord of the truss." +</p> + +<p> +There Was a little trouble in his face of which she +was dimly conscious, yet it was not sufficient to call for +comment. +</p> + +<p> +"Mr. Abbott and Mr. Curtiss were talking about it +yesterday evening. Mr. Curtiss said something about +its design that I happened to overhear. One of them +must have drawn it. Mr. Abbott probably. I came out +on the platform just before you came to dinner. +Mr. Abbott was telling Mr. Curtiss it was all right. He +seemed to have some doubt. It is all right, isn't it?" +</p> + +<p> +"Of course, of course," said Meade. "You know it's +the member we were discussing last night." +</p> + +<p> +He picked up the pencil, as is the habit of engineers, +and began to sketch just as Abbott had done the night +before. As he talked she bent over him. +</p> + +<p> +"Why," she said, "you're making a little picture of +the bridge, aren't you?" +</p> + +<p> +He dropped the pencil. +</p> + +<p> +"It's a habit we all have." +</p> + +<p> +She picked up the paper and looked at it carefully. +</p> + +<p> +"Finish it," she said, handing it back to him. +</p> + +<p> +"I'll make you a fine drawing of it when I have +more time." +</p> + +<p> +"No, just that. It came by chance just as we came +to know that we loved each other." +</p> + +<p> +"Didn't you know it before?" he went on, taking the +pencil and laying the paper on the table while he worked +rapidly. +</p> + +<p> +"I hoped. Didn't you?" +</p> + +<p> +"I never dreamed that such a thing could be +possible." +</p> + +<p> +"And I had to fall off a bridge to make you speak, +did I, incredibly stupid man?" +</p> + +<p> +"You did, adorably wise woman," he laughed in glad +affirmation. +</p> + +<p> +<a id="p85"></a> +"It is finished," he said as he handed the rough sketch +back to her. She bent over him, looking at it carefully. +With a few bold outlines and expert strokes he had +drawn a different sketch above the strut Curtiss and +Abbott had debated over, the outreaching cantilever with +the suspended span, traveler and everything just as it +stood. "There," he said, pointing with his pencil to the +outer end of the floor, "that is where it happened." +</p> + +<p> +She pressed it to her heart. +</p> + +<p> +"I don't have to do this, it is printed there without +this, but I will just keep the sketch to look at it and +think of it when we are parted." +</p> + +<p> +"Good-morning," said the Colonel, coming out of the +door of the car. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap09"></a></p> + +<h2> +II +<br><br> +C-10-R +</h2> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="capcenter"> +<a id="img-088"></a> +<br> +<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-088.jpg" alt="(sketch of part of a bridge truss)"> +<br> +(sketch of part of a bridge truss) +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<h3> +IX +<br><br> +THE DEFLECTION IN THE MEMBER +</h3> + +<p> +Three days after the departure of the Illingworth +party the young engineer fell ill, very +much to his disgust. His indisposition was not +serious, but it took the painful, unpleasant, and debilitating +form of follicular tonsilitis, which is about the +meanest small thing that can lay a strong man low. +</p> + +<p> +The bridge could undoubtedly get along without +him, but nevertheless he fretted over the enforced +withdrawal from his constant supervision of the work. +Indeed in the end he had to pay for that very fretting, +for he got up too soon and went out too quickly, and +was promptly forced back to bed again as a +consequence of his impatience. +</p> + +<p> +Now, after a week's confinement in his cabin, he felt +strong enough to venture out again and to attack his +problems. They were personal problems now, much +more intimate than before, for he was building not only +the bridge but weaving in its web of steel his own future +happiness. +</p> + +<p> +Of course he had been able to get out on the rough +porch of the galvanized iron shack which was his own +and which, as has been noted, had been so placed that +he had the bridge in full view and all the operations on +it, and the day before he had even walked unsteadily +down to the river bank, where he had been equally +surprised and delighted at the progress that had been +made. Abbott was a driver after his own heart. Really +things seemed to have gone on just as well without him +as if he had been present and, as he phrased it, on the +job. He had not been lonely in his illness, for all of the +chief men connected with the construction had done their +best to beguile the tedium of his hours by visiting him +whenever they could spare the time. +</p> + +<p> +Abbott had been especially kind in his somewhat +rough-and-ready way. The big construction superintendent +was fond of Meade, although he held him in a +little—contempt is a harsh word, disdain does not +exactly express it, perhaps to say that he undervalued +him would be best. Anyway, he regarded him more as +a theoretical than a practical man and the inevitable +antagonism between the theorist and the practical man, +when they are not combined in one personality, was +latent in Abbott's heart. +</p> + +<p> +The building of a bridge in Burma was not the work +of a practical man according to Abbott's idea. That +was almost as ideal and visionary to the hard-headed +veteran constructor as building one in the moon. Yet +Abbott had a sneaking respect for the younger man, and +more than a sneaking liking for him. Nightly, he +brought to him details of the progress of the work. +That evening, just before leaving, he remarked in the +most casual manner in the world, as if it were a matter +of little or no importance, that C-10-R was a trifle out +of line. +</p> + +<p> +Now C-10-R was the biggest member of the great +right-hand truss on the north side of the river. It +consisted of four parallel composite webs, each formed of +several plates of steel riveted together. These webs +were connected across their upper and lower edges by +diagonal latticing made of steel angle bars. C-10-R +and its parallel companion member, C-10-L, in the left-hand +truss, carried the entire weight of the cantilever +span to the shoe resting on the pier. These members +were sixty feet long and five feet wide. The webs were +over four feet deep and in size and responsibility the +great struts were the most important of the whole +structure. +</p> + +<p> +To say that C-10-R was out of line meant that it +had buckled, or bent, or was springing, and had departed +from that rigid rectangularity and parallelism +which was absolutely necessary to maintain the stability +and immobility of the truss and the strength of the +bridge. To the theorist nothing on earth could be more +terribly portentous than such a statement, if it were +true. To the practical man, who, to do him justice, +had never dealt with such vast structures—and he was +not singular in that because the bridge was unique on +account of its size—the deflection noted meant little or +nothing. +</p> + +<p> +"Good God!" exclaimed Meade, aflame on the instant +with anxious apprehension. The night was warm +and he was dressed in his pajamas and had been lying +on the bed. As if he had been shocked into action he +sat up, forgetful of his weakness. "Deflection!" he +fairly shouted at Abbott, who regarded him with +half-amused astonishment, "in the principal compression +member, a camber in C-10-R?" he continued, using an +old technical term for such a deviation from the +straight. "Why didn't you tell me?" +</p> + +<p> +By this time Meade had got his feet into his slippers +and was standing erect. +</p> + +<p> +"It isn't enough to make any difference," answered +Abbott quickly, perhaps a little disdainfully. +</p> + +<p> +"It makes all the difference on earth," cried Meade. +"It means the ruin of the bridge." +</p> + +<p> +He reached for his jacket, hanging at the foot of the +bed, and dragged it on him. +</p> + +<p> +"Don't worry about it, youngster," said Abbott +rather contemptuously, although he meant to be +soothing. "I'm going to jack it into line and—here," he +cried as Meade bolted out of the door, "you'd better +not excite yourself that way. Come back to bed, man, +and——" +</p> + +<p> +But Meade was out of the house. It was summer and +the sun had set, but the long twilight of the high +latitude still lingered. There would be a moon in an +hour or two, but none of its light would show for a long +time; meanwhile a few of the brighter stars had +appeared here and there in the graying light of the +evening. Before him rose the gigantic structure of the +bridge. For all its airiness it looked as substantial as +the Rock of Gibraltar, and it looked even more substantial +if possible, as the man, seizing a lantern and +forgetting his weakness and everything, ran down beneath +the overarching steel to the pierhead, climbed up to +the shoe, and crawled out on the lower chord as rapidly +as he could. +</p> + +<p> +The genius of the father had been inherited in full +measure by the son. Bertram Meade needed but one +glance to see the deflection from the right line in the +important member. For all his years of inexperience +he was a better trained engineer than rough-and-ready +Abbott. What appeared to the latter as a slight +deflection, Meade saw in its true relation. There was a +variation in the center of the member of an inch and a +half at least, although unnoticeable to an untrained eye. +It had all come in the last week. They had extended the +suspended span far out beyond the edge of the cantilever +and, with the heavy traveler at the end, the +downward pressure on the great lower chord members had +greatly increased. +</p> + +<p> +It was a terribly heavy bridge at best. It had to be +to sustain so long a span, the longest in the world. And +the load, continuous and increasing, had brought about +this, to the layman trifling, to the engineer mighty, +bend. If it bent that way under that much of a load, +what would it do when the whole great span was completed +and it had to carry its transitory loads of traffic +beside? +</p> + +<p> +Not infrequently man is sensible of the weakness of a +plan although he cannot demonstrate it. <i>Per contra</i> +man rests confident in a conclusion at which he has +arrived, although he cannot set forth the steps to +justify it. When two such different views meet it is natural +that age, experience, reputation, and authority shall +carry the day. Although Bertram Meade, Junior, had +never been persuaded in all particulars of the soundness +of his father's design, and could not be persuaded, +that vast experience, that great reputation, that +undoubted ability with its long record of brilliant +achievement had at last silenced him. He had accepted through +loyalty that which he could not accept in argument. +Once accepted, he acted accordingly, heartily seconding +and carrying out the wishes of the older and, as the +world would say, the abler man. +</p> + +<p> +Now there is something empiric about every great +engineering enterprise, but more especially if it +presents a new problem. If there were not it would not be +great. The work of the engineer in that event would be +purely mechanical and devoid of that imaginative touch +which always is a part of true greatness. Inevitably +new stresses are to be provided for and no man can tell, +until by the test of actual experience, whether or not he +has absolutely succeeded in taking up that stress. +There is no absolute certitude in empiric formulæ, +because the whole range of conditions on which they are +based is not known or cannot be duplicated by him +who applies them. +</p> + +<p> +Finally Meade concluded that, as usual, he had been +wrong and the old man right, and he was glad indeed +to be able to come to that decision. He was led the +more easily and inevitably thereto because of a certain +quality that all engineers possess, a habit of mind in +which they all share. When the thing itself is before +them concretely, especially if it looks to be of sufficient +bigness, the invariable tendency of the engineer is to +trust it despite previous calculations. It is there, it +stands, it is; though it moves not it has a being; and the +great monster strut, sixty feet long, seemed to him +big enough and rigid enough, if placed on the fulcrum +of Archimedes, to hold up and even to move the world. +</p> + +<p> +The thing that smote the engineer hardest, as Abbott +spoke, was that this weakness was exactly what he had +foreseen and pointed out. It was the possibility of the +inability of this great member to carry the stress that +young Meade had deduced by using the formula of +Schmidt-Chemnitz. It was this point, and this point +particularly, that he had dwelt upon with his father and +which they had argued to a finish. So strongly had he +been impressed with the possible structural weakness of +this member that he had put himself on record in writing +to his father. The letter he had written had been +destroyed, so he had been informed, but he remembered it +perfectly. The old man had overborne him and now the +little curve, one and a half to one and three-quarter +inches in sixty feet, established the accuracy of his +unheeded contention. +</p> + +<p> +Although he could find no fault with his calculations +he had decided he must have failed in some way, since +he could not convince his father; and, in the face of the +great experience and ability and the serene confidence +of the old engineer, he had finally yielded the point. +Had it been anyone else he would never have dropped it. +He would have fought it out to the very end. Vainly +now he wished he had not let the old habit of affection +and the little touch of awe with which he regarded his +father persuade him against his reason. +</p> + +<p> +Affection and business never did mingle. Sentiment +and science? Yes, they have a relation, but not when it +comes to engineering calculations. Now just because +he had given in to his father the old man would be +ruined. The younger Meade's experience was not great +enough to devise ways and means of strengthening the +bridge entirely satisfactorily if the deflection continued. +Perhaps no one could do that. A large part of it +might even have to be taken down. The question would +have to be referred to his father at the earliest possible +moment, he reflected, as he noted the deflection. And he +felt a generous pang of sorrow at the humiliation the +older man would certainly feel when his error was proved +to him. +</p> + +<p> +Meade realized in a flash that he had been living as +it were in a fool's paradise, lulled by his feeling that +his father must be right. Other things than professional +honor and reputation and material success were +involved. When the bridge was completed he was to +have for his wife the woman he loved, so the old Colonel +had said. When the bridge was completed his father +was to retire with this last work as his crown. When +the bridge was completed his own career was to begin. +Now! Good God! The pang that shot into his heart +was almost as great as that which touched him when +Helen Illingworth fell with the slipping gusset plate and +he only caught her at the last moment. +</p> + +<p> +He stopped, feeling suddenly ill, as a very nervous, +high-strung man may feel under the sudden and +unexpected physical demand of a great shock. The +reaction between mental and physical conditions was +immediate and overpowering. He was weak still from +the tonsilitis. He leaned against the diagonal at the +end of C-10-R, clinging to it tightly to keep from +falling, and again that strange fit of trembling he had +suffered from on the bridge with Helen Illingworth, +for which he cursed himself as a coward, struck him. +Abbott, who had followed more slowly, stopped by him, +somewhat surprised, somewhat amused, more indignant +than both. +</p> + +<p> +"Abbott," said Meade fiercely as the erecting engineer +joined him on the pierhead, "if you put another +pound of load on that cantilever I will not be answerable +for the consequences." +</p> + +<p> +"What do you mean?" +</p> + +<p> +"That deflection is nearly two inches deep now and +every ounce or pound of added weight you put upon it +will make it greater. Its limit will be reached mighty +soon. If it collapses—" he threw up his hands—"the +whole thing will go." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, if it collapses, that's true," said Abbott, "but +it won't." +</p> + +<p> +"You're mad," said Meade, taking unfortunately the +wrong course with the older man. +</p> + +<p> +"Why, boy," said Abbott, "that bridge will stand as +long as creation. Look at it. That buckle doesn't +amount to anything. It is only in one truss anyway. +The corresponding member in the other truss is +perfectly straight." +</p> + +<p> +"Abbott, for God's sake, hear me," pleaded Meade +in desperation. "Draw back the traveler and put no +more men on the bridge. Stop work until we can get +word to——" +</p> + +<p> +"If I thought there was the least danger," said the +other man, "I would do what you say, of course, but +we are way behind now—weeks behind in spite of my +driving. They don't seem to be able to get the stuff +to me. There's a big penalty for non-completion of the +contract within the limits. I get wires every day +urging me on." +</p> + +<p> +"I don't care what you get." +</p> + +<p> +"You heard what the Colonel said last week." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, I heard, but it makes no difference, the work +must stop." +</p> + +<p> +"It can't—and it shan't," cried the other with +sudden fierceness. +</p> + +<p> +"Abbott!" +</p> + +<p> +"Don't talk to me, boy. Damn the camber! I know +my business. This isn't the first deflection I ever saw, +is it?" +</p> + +<p> +"No, of course not." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I tell you I can jack it back. That member's +big enough and strong enough to hold up the +world." +</p> + +<p> +"What are you going to jack against?" Meade +asked, and for the first time a little of Abbott's +contempt appeared in the younger man's voice. +</p> + +<p> +Abbott reflected that there was nothing firm enough +to serve as a support for jacks and said rather grudgingly, +for it seemed like a concession to the younger and +junior engineer: +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I can hook on to the opposite truss and pull +it back with turn buckles." +</p> + +<p> +"That will damage the other truss too much, Abbott," +Meade retorted promptly. "It isn't possible." +</p> + +<p> +"Then I'll think up some other scheme," returned +Abbott indifferently, as if humoring the other. "We +can't wait, we've got to hurry it along." +</p> + +<p> +The two men made no special attempt to conceal their +feelings. Abbott's indifference had been at first +good-humored, but it was fast taking on another character +and Meade's insistence and his evident bad opinion of +the other man's obstinacy did not tend to make the +discussion more amicable, or to convince either that the +other was right or even that his opinions should be +respected. +</p> + +<p> +"Abbott, I'm just as much interested in finishing the +job in a hurry as you are," explained Meade in a last +effort to move him, and too late appealing to him more +gently. "I—you see—Miss Illingworth, her father +said——" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, you get the girl when the bridge is up?" asked +Abbott shrewdly. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, rest easy, son, that will only make me work +the harder. I like you in spite of your fool ideas. I'm +going to make a record for myself on this bridge. It's +the biggest thing in the world. There's going to be no +penalty against us on account of me. I won't stop work +a minute," he explained patronizingly. +</p> + +<p> +"There will be a bigger penalty if you don't do what +I say, and paid in another way, in blood. And it will +be your fault." +</p> + +<p> +Now both men were angry and in their passion they +confronted each other more resolute and fierce than +ever. +</p> + +<p> +"Look here," said Abbott, his fiery temper suddenly +breaking from his control, "who are you anyway? +You're only a kid engineer. Your father approved of +the plan of this bridge. I guess we can afford to bank +on his reputation rather than yours." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, he doesn't know of this." +</p> + +<p> +"Nobody is on the bridge now, and nobody is going +to be on there until tomorrow morning. Wire him if +you like. He'll wire Illingworth down at Martlet and +we'll get word what to do." +</p> + +<p> +"You won't put any men at work on the bridge until——" +</p> + +<p> +"Not until tomorrow morning," said Abbott +decisively, "if I don't hear from somebody at Martlet +tomorrow morning the work goes on." +</p> + +<p> +"But if my father wires you——" +</p> + +<p> +"I take orders from the Martlet Company and +no one else," was the short answer with which Abbott +turned away in finality, so that the other realized the +interview was over. +</p> + +<p> +Meade wasted no more pleas on Abbott. As ill luck +would have it something had happened to the telephone +and telegraph wires between the city and the camp. +After vainly trying to get a connection when he climbed +back to the office Meade dressed himself, got a handcar, +and was hurried to the nearest town on the railroad's +main line. From there he sent a telegram and tried to +get connection with New York by telephone, but failed. +Moved by a natural impulse, in default of other means +of communication, he jumped on the midnight train for +New York. He would go himself in person and attend +to the grave affair. Nothing whatever could be so +important. +</p> + +<p> +There had been some friction between Abbott and +Meade before on occasions, not serious, but several +times Meade had ventured to suggest something which +to Abbott seemed useless and unnecessary, and the fact +that subsequent events had more often than not proved +Meade's suggestions to be worth while, had not put +Abbott in altogether the best mood toward his young +colleague. Abbott never forgot that Meade had really +no official connection with the building of the bridge, and +that he was only there as a special representative of his +father, and although he could not help liking the +younger man, Abbott would have been better pleased if +he had been left alone. +</p> + +<p> +He was too honorable and too competent a man to +diverge in any way from the specifications and plans, +but in all those matters which are sometimes of great +moment and which are of necessity left to the discretion +of the erector, he liked to be free to follow his own +devices. Consequently he was not predisposed to view +any suggestions from Meade with any great degree of +cordiality, or to receive what had amounted to a positive +command with any especial warmth. As he reflected on +the heated debate in his room before he went to sleep +he almost blamed himself for what he considered a +censurable weakness in having suggested that Colonel +Illingworth be bothered by wire with such a trifling +proposition. And so obsessed was he by his conviction +of the strength of the bridge and his ability to bring +back the wavering member to its proper relationship to +the other parts of the structure or, if he could not, of +the comparative unimportance of the deflection, that +after Meade's departure he almost found himself +wishing that something would prevent communication +between New York and Martlet until he had had a chance +to show that he was right. +</p> + +<p> +Meade had not gone about it in the right way to move +a man of Abbott's temperament. He realized that as he +lay awake on the sleeper speeding to New York. +Abbott was a man who could not be driven. He was a +tremendous driver himself and naturally he could not +take his own medicine. If Meade had received the +announcement more quietly and if he had by some subtle +suggestion put the idea of danger into Abbott's mind +all would have been well, for when he was not blinded by +prejudice, or his authority or his ability questioned, +Abbott was a sensible man thoroughly to be depended +upon. But the news had come to Meade with such +suddenness, Abbott had only casually mentioned it at +the close of a lengthy conversation regarding the +progress of the work as if it were a matter of no especial +moment, that the sudden shock had thrown Meade off +his balance. +</p> + +<p> +Thereafter he could see nothing but danger and the +necessity for action. How he should handle his +superior, or rather the bridge's superior, was the last +thing in his mind. Aside from his natural pride in his +father and in the bridge and his fear that lives would be +lost if it failed, unless he could get the men withdrawn, +there was the complication of his engagement to Helen +Illingworth. +</p> + +<p> +Meade could not close his eyes, he could not sleep a +moment on the train. His mind was in a turmoil. +Prayers that he would get to his father and the bridge +people in time to stop work and prevent loss of life, +schemes for taking up the deflection, strengthening the +member, and completing the bridge, and fears that he +would lose the woman, stayed with him through the +night. +</p> + +<p> +He was too filled with anxiety and alarm to be anxious +as to whether he was having a relapse or not, but +it was a white-faced, bloodshot man in rough field +garb—not intending or expecting to come to New York, +he had not taken time to dress properly, he had dragged +on the clothes at hand in his agitation—who half reeled +through the gates of the Grand Central Station that +morning while curious people looked at him with +interest and amazement. +</p> + +<p> +To add to his misfortune the train had been delayed +by a disastrous freight wreck on the line, and was two +hours late. Everything was against him. Even the +taxicab burst a tire and delayed him further in his +progress downtown. It was ten o'clock before he +reached his father's office in the Uplift Building, when +he should have arrived much earlier. It was with frantic +haste that he ran to the elevator and then to the office. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap10"></a></p> + +<h3> +X +<br><br> +THE SON OF HIS FATHER INDEED +</h3> + +<p> +Meade, Senior, was an old man. Although +unlike Moses his eye was dim and his natural +force abated, the evidences of power were still +apparent, especially to the observant. There rose the +broad brow of the thinker. His power of intense +concentration was expressed outwardly by a directness of +gaze from the old eyes which, though faded, could flash +on occasion. Other facial characteristics of that +snow-crowned, leonine head, which bespoke that imaginative +power without which a great engineer could not be in +spite of all his scientific exactitudes, had not been cut +out of his countenance by the pruning knife of time. +</p> + +<p> +He was a great engineer and looked it, sitting alone +in his office with the telegram crushed in his trembling +hand, despite the fact that his gray face was the very +picture of unwonted weakness, of impotency, and abiding +horror. The message had struck him a terrific blow. +He had reeled under it and had sunk down in the chair +in a state of nervous collapse. +</p> + +<p> +Time was when he would have rallied from the shock, +when the stroke of fortune would have found him ready +to deal blow for blow. But he was now too old for that. +He saw himself for the little remainder of his life bereft +of all title and dignity, shamed, dishonored, with the +blood of men and the tears of women and little children +upon him. +</p> + +<p> +The telegram fairly burned the clammy palm of his +hand. He would fain have dropped it yet he could not. +Slowly he opened it once more. Ordinarily, powerful +glasses stimulated his vision. He needed nothing to +read it again. It is doubtful whether his eyes saw it or +not and there was not need, for the message was burned +into his brain. +</p> + +<p> +To a layman the message was harmless enough, indeed, +inexplicable, but to the great engineer it spelled +failure in the great project with which he had fondly +hoped to crown his long, distinguished, and honorable +career. It meant financial ruin to great men who had +trusted to his skill; death and destruction to smaller +men who had confided in his assurance; deprivation, +sorrow, hardship, starvation, to dependent women and +children. +</p> + +<p> +He read again the mysterious words. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +"<i>One and three-quarter inch camber in C</i>-10-<i>R</i>." +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +There could be no mistake. The name that was +signed to it was the name of his son, the young engineer, +the child of his father's old age, whom he himself +had trained to follow in his footsteps, to don the royal +mantle of supremacy when he had laid it aside. Other +things connected themselves with the hideous fact +conveyed by the telegram. The boy, as the old man +thought of him, had ventured to dispute his father's +figures, to question his father's design, but the elder +man had overborne him with his vast experience, his +great authority, his extensive learning, his high +reputation. Age had laughed youth to scorn. +</p> + +<p> +And now the boy was right. Strange to say some +little thrill of pride came to the old engineer at that +moment. The boy in this was greater than he. But it +was lost in the imminence and magnitude of the +catastrophe. He tried to find out from the telegram when it +had been sent. That day was a holiday—the birthday +of one of the Worthies of the Republic—in some of the +United States, New York and Pennsylvania among +them, and only by chance had he come down to the +office that morning. The wire was dated the night +before. Perhaps even—no, the morning papers would +have said if the inevitable accident had occurred. And +he recalled that the state from which the bridge ran +did not observe that day as a holiday. They would +be working on the International as usual unless—— +</p> + +<p> +One and three-quarter inches of deflection! Good +God! No bridge that was ever made could stand with a +bend like that in the principal member of its compression +chord, much less so vast a structure as that which +was to span the greatest of rivers and to bring nation +into touch with nation. He ought to do something, but +what was there to do? Presently, doubtless, his mind +would clear. But on the instant all he could think of +was the impending ruin. +</p> + +<p> +The Uplift Building, in which he had his offices, was +mainly deserted on account of the holiday. The banks +were closed and the offices and most of the shops and +stores. It was very still in the hall and, therefore, he +heard distinctly the door of the single elevator in +service open with an unusual crash, then the sound of rapid +footsteps along the corridor as of someone running. +They stopped before the outer door of the suite which +bore his name. Instantly he suspected a messenger of +disaster. The door was opened, the office was crossed, +a hand was on the inner door. +</p> + +<p> +The old engineer strove vainly to rise to meet the +bearer of evil tidings, but failed. His trembling limbs +would not support him. He sank back almost as one +dead waiting the shock, the blow. It was not so much +of himself as of the consequences to others he thought, +although the one failure would dissolve the fame he had +gained by all the successes of the past. +</p> + +<p> +When the door was opened, instinctively he put his +arm across his eyes as if to shield himself from the +attack. +</p> + +<p> +"Father," exclaimed the newcomer. +</p> + +<p> +"Thank God," said the old man, dropping his arm, +"you are here." +</p> + +<p> +"You got my telegram?" +</p> + +<p> +The other silently exhibited the crumpled paper in his +hand. +</p> + +<p> +"What have you done?" +</p> + +<p> +"Why, I—nothing." +</p> + +<p> +"Good God! Nothing! Why, you must have +received it early this morning. I— +</p> + +<p> +"It's a holiday, don't you know? I only got it a +few moments ago. The bridge?" +</p> + +<p> +"Still stands." +</p> + +<p> +"But for how long?" +</p> + +<p> +"I can't say. The Martlet's resident engineer is +mad. I begged, threatened, implored. I tried to get +him to stop work, to take the men off the bridge, to +withdraw the traveler, but he won't do it. Said you +designed it, you knew. I was only a cub." +</p> + +<p> +"But the camber?" +</p> + +<p> +"He said, 'Damn the camber, I'll jack it into line +again.' Like every other engineer who sees a big thing +before him it looks to him as if it would last forever. +I tried to get you on the telephone here and at the house +last night and failed. I wired you. Then I jumped +on the midnight express and——" +</p> + +<p> +"What is to be done?" asked the old man. +</p> + +<p> +Meade, Senior, was thankful that the younger man +had not said, "I told you so," as well he might. But +really his father's condition was so pitiful that the son +had not the heart. +</p> + +<p> +"Telegraph the Martlet Bridge Company at once," +he answered. +</p> + +<p> +"What shall we say?" asked the old man, uncertainly. +</p> + +<p> +The young man shot a quick look at him, that question +evidenced the violence of the shock. His father was +old, broken, helpless, dependent, at last.... +</p> + +<p> +"Give me the blank," he answered, "I'll wire in your +name." +</p> + +<p> +He repeated the telegram that he had sent to his +father and added these words as he signed the old man's +name to it: +</p> + +<p> +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Put no more load on the bridge. Withdraw men +and traveler.</i>" +</p> + +<p> +</p> + +<p> +He read the message to his father. The old man +nodded helplessly. The young man seized the +telephone, called up the Western Union and soon the +message was on the wire to the great bridge works in the +Pennsylvania hills. +</p> + +<p> +"Now, father," said the young man encouragingly, +"don't give up. The Martlet people will pay attention +to that message. Even if the bridge goes down, there +will be no lives lost." +</p> + +<p> +"How many men are working on it?" +</p> + +<p> +"About two hundred. Abbott told me he wouldn't +take a single man off. I wanted to tell them myself, +but I couldn't do that. He is in charge. I am only +representing you. He would not even agree to take +direction from you." +</p> + +<p> +"Of course not." +</p> + +<p> +"We will get hold of the bridge people. Colonel +Illingworth will telegraph Abbott to back up the +traveler, withdraw the men, and get all possible load +off the member. Pull yourself together. Let's figure +out some way to strengthen it until we can replace it, +or devise——" +</p> + +<p> +"You are right, boy, you are right," said the old +man, rising in his chair and turning toward his desk. +"Let us get to work." +</p> + +<p> +"Good," said the young man. "We ought to hear +from Colonel Illingworth in half an hour and we'll pull +the thing through yet." +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap11"></a></p> + +<h3> +XI +<br><br> +THE DEATH MESSAGE ON THE WIRE +</h3> + +<p> +"I can't understand why we don't hear," said the +young engineer, walking up and down the room +in his agitation. "Two telegrams and now we +can't get a telephone connection, or at least any answer +after our repeated calls." +</p> + +<p> +"It's a holiday there as well as here," said the older +man. "There is no one in the office at Martlet." +</p> + +<p> +"I'll try the telephone again. Someone may come +in at any time." +</p> + +<p> +He sat down at the desk, and after five minutes of +feverish and excited waiting he finally did get the office +of the Martlet Bridge Company. By a happy fortune +it appeared that someone happened to come into the +office just at that moment. +</p> + +<p> +"This is Meade," began the young man, "the consulting +engineer of the International Bridge. Understand? +Yes. Well, at ten-thirty this morning I sent a +telegram to Colonel Illingworth and an hour later I +sent another. I've had no reply. I've been trying hard +to get the office on the telephone ever since. What's +that?" Young Meade turned to his father. "He +says there's been no one in the office on account of the +holiday. Both telegrams are on the desk. He just +chanced to come in or I couldn't have got the message +through." +</p> + +<p> +"It's too late, too late," said the father, wringing +his hands. +</p> + +<p> +"Wait," said the son. He turned to the telephone +again. "Give me your name—Johnson—you're one of +the clerks there? Well, telephone Colonel Illingworth +at his home and tell him to call me at this office at once. +I'll hold this connection with you until I hear you've got +him. It's most important. We're on the right track +now, father," continued the young man reassuringly. +"The bridge must be all right yet. We would have +heard at once if it weren't. Keep up your courage. +We're going to pull through, somehow." +</p> + +<p> +In such talk a few anxious minutes passed. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," suddenly broke out the younger Meade, who +had kept the receiver to his ear. "What! You can't +find him? He isn't at home? He has gone away? Is +the vice-president there—the superintendent—anybody? +The men are having a jollification in the mountains, +you say, and everybody has gone? How far away are +they? Twenty miles! On the railroad? They went in +wagons? There's no telephone? Now, listen, Johnson, +this is what you must do. Get a car, the strongest and +fastest you can rent and the boldest chauffeur, and a +couple of men on horses too, and send up to that place +wherever they are, and tell Colonel Illingworth that he +must telephone me and come to his office at once. There +are telegrams there that mean life and death and the +safety of the bridge. You understand? Good. He +says he'll do it, father. We've done all we can," he +added. He hung up the receiver, sprang to his feet, +looked at his watch. "It's so important that I'll go +down there myself. I can catch the two-o'clock train, +and that will get me there in two hours. You stay +quietly here in the office and wait until I get in touch +with those people. I mean, I want to know where I +can reach you instantly." +</p> + +<p> +"I'll stay right here, my boy. Go, and God bless you." +</p> + +<p> +As usual when in a great hurry there were unexpected +delays and the clock on the tower above the big +structural shop was striking five when a rickety station +wagon, drawn by an exhausted horse, which had been +driven unsparingly, drew up before the office door. +Flinging the money at the driver, Meade sprang down +from his seat and dashed up the steps. He threw open +the door and confronted Johnson. +</p> + +<p> +"Did you get him?" he cried. +</p> + +<p> +"He isn't here yet. I sent an automobile and two +men on horseback and——" +</p> + +<p> +The next minute the faint note of an automobile horn +sounded far down the valley. +</p> + +<p> +"I hope to God that is he," cried the young engineer, +running to the window. +</p> + +<p> +"That's the car I sent," said Johnson, peering over +his shoulder. "And there are people in it. It's coming +this way." +</p> + +<p> +"Johnson," said Meade, "you have acted well in this +crisis and I will see that the Bridge Company remembers it." +</p> + +<p> +"Would you mind telling me what the matter is, Mr. Meade?" +</p> + +<p> +"Matter! The International——" +</p> + +<p> +"Bert," exclaimed a joyous voice, as Helen Illingworth, +smiling in delighted surprise, stepped through +the open door and stood expectant with outstretched +hands. +</p> + +<p> +Young Johnson was as discreet as he was prompt +and ready. He walked to the window out of which he +stared, with his back ostentatiously turned toward them. +Most considerately he even whistled a little tune and +drummed noisily upon the panes. After a quick glance +at the other man, Meade swept the girl to his heart and +held her there a moment. He did not kiss her before +he released her. The woman's passionate look at him +was caress enough and his own adoring glance fairly +enveloped her with emotion. She looked at Johnson and +her brow wrinkled in slight annoyance, but, though he +felt unwelcome, that young man could not go and he +had sense enough to know that he would be needed and +that no more time could be wasted by the lovers. He +coughed and turned as the two separated. It was the +woman who recovered her poise quicker. To be sure +she did not have the burden upon her shoulders that +Meade had to support. +</p> + +<p> +"What were you saying about our bridge when I +came into the room?" she began, and Meade fully +understood the slight but unmistakable emphasis in the +pronoun—our bridge, indeed—"I was lying down this +afternoon, but when I awakened my maid told me about +your urgent calls for father," she ran on, realizing that +some trouble portended and seeking to help her lover by +giving him time. "I knew something must be wrong, +so I came here. I didn't expect to see you. Oh, what +is it?" she broke off, suddenly realizing from the mental +strain in her lover's face, which the sudden sight of her +had caused him to conceal for a moment, that something +terribly serious had happened, and she turned a little +pale herself as she asked the question, not dreaming +what the answer would be. +</p> + +<p> +"Helen," said the young man, stepping toward her +and taking her hands again, "we're in awful trouble." +</p> + +<p> +"If it is any trouble I can share, Bert," said the +girl, flashing at him a look which set his pulses +bounding—at least she was to be depended on—"you know +you can count on me." +</p> + +<p> +"I know I can," he exclaimed gratefully. +</p> + +<p> +"Now tell me." +</p> + +<p> +"The International Bridge is about to fail." +</p> + +<p> +The color came to her face again. Was that all? +came into her mind. That was serious enough, of +course, but it would not matter in the long run. +Through its structural weakness the bridge might fail; +through Abbott's obstinacy and pig-headedness those +men might die on it, his father's reputation might go and +his own, but as he looked into the eyes of the woman he +knew that all these things would make no difference to +her. Heart once given, love once proffered, they were +his to the end. Her father! Well, Colonel Illingworth +was not the deciding voice, so she had said before. That +thought flashed into Meade's mind. Yet the glad +consciousness was accompanied by a firm resolution to +abide by the conditions as set forth by Colonel +Illingworth. Bridge and woman, they went together for him. +Indeed he intended to save his father, even if his own life +and happiness, interwoven with the bridge, were the price +of his endeavor. No one should ever know. It would +be his fault. It was. He should have insisted on his +contentions. +</p> + +<p> +He would never involve in his own ruin this glorious +woman, whatever her trust, her affection, her willingness. +That bright youthful life at least should not go +down with the bridge. The awful Web of Steel should +not catch her in its meshes. He would tear the rigid +bars apart with his own bleeding hands before that +should happen. +</p> + +<p> +Yet he would not have been the man she loved, the +man who loved her, if he had not thrilled to her +splendid ardent devotion, her whole-hearted trust in him. +He did not quite realize that, as it takes two to make a +quarrel, no man, however determined upon a course, can +absolutely settle a woman's relationship to him without +her consent, especially when he loves her and has told +her so and received her love in return. +</p> + +<p> +How much of all this Helen Illingworth realized, +what her thoughts were, what resolutions she came to, +what determinations were her own, her lover could not +tell. She recognized the awful gravity, the terrible +seriousness, of the situation of course. The bridge +meant much to her even if in quite a different way. +It was there he had saved her from the awful fall. It +was there that he had told her that he loved her. If she +had been given the choice she would have embraced the +risk for the avowal if it could not have been brought +about otherwise. The bridge might fall, but it was as +eternal as her affection in her memory. Their +engagement, or their marriage, had been made dependent upon +the successful completion of the bridge. What of that? +The proviso meant nothing to her when she looked at +the white-faced agonized man to whom she had given +herself. +</p> + +<p> +Who dared condition love? What parental injunction +could bind the free movement of human hearts? +Age? What did age know about it? Here were youth, +sorrow, love, life. While they had being they belonged +to each other. Not the trusses and stringers of the +great bridge were stronger than the intangible ties that +bound heart to heart, and the steel was not half so real. +Bridges might come and bridges might go, reputations +fail and disappear, property be lost in ruin and +disaster—it would make no difference. She was his and +he was hers. The senses of possession and possessed +alike would and should have the mastery. +</p> + +<p> +"It is terrible, of course," she said quietly. +</p> + +<p> +"Appalling." +</p> + +<p> +"But you can do nothing?" +</p> + +<p> +"If I could do you think I'd let the bridge, and you, +go without——" +</p> + +<p> +"I'm not going with the bridge," was her quick and +decisive interruption. +</p> + +<p> +They had both forgotten the presence of young +Johnson, who was not only decidedly uncomfortable, +but desperately anxious. He was about to speak when, +into this already broken scene, came another interruption. +</p> + +<p> +There was a rush of wheels on the driveway outside, +the roar of a motor. Before Meade could answer the +statement, into the room burst Colonel Illingworth. +He was covered with dust, his face was white, his eyes +filled with anxiety. The character of the summons had +disquieted him beyond measure. Back of him came +Severence, the vice-president, and Curtiss, the chief +engineer. +</p> + +<p> +"Meade, what of the bridge?" he burst out, with a +quick nod to his daughter, knowing that nothing else +could have brought the engineer there, especially in +the light of the messages received. +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Illingworth had not stopped to hunt for a +wayside telephone. The automobile driven madly, recklessly +through the hills and over the rough roads, had +brought him directly to the office in the shortest possible +time. +</p> + +<p> +"There is a deflection one inch and three-quarters +deep in one of the compression members, C-10-R," was +the prompt and terrible answer. +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Illingworth had not been president of the +Martlet Bridge Company for so long without learning +something of practical construction. He was easily +enough of an engineer to realize instantly what that +statement meant. +</p> + +<p> +"When did you discover it?" he snapped out. +</p> + +<p> +"Last night." +</p> + +<p> +"Is the bridge gone?" +</p> + +<p> +"Not yet." +</p> + +<p> +"Why didn't you let us know?" +</p> + +<p> +"I telegraphed father and, not hearing from him, +I came down on the midnight train. It is a holiday in +New York as well as here. I just happened to meet +father in the office. He sent a telegram to you and not +hearing from you, duplicated it an hour later. I tried +half a dozen times to get you on the telephone and +finally, by a happy chance, got hold of young Johnson." +</p> + +<p> +"Where are your father's telegrams?" +</p> + +<p> +"Here." +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Illingworth tore the first open with trembling +fingers? +</p> + +<p> +"Why didn't you tell Abbott?" asked the chief +engineer. +</p> + +<p> +"You know Abbott. He said the bridge would stand +until the world caved in. Said he could jack the member +into line. He wouldn't do a thing except on direct +orders from here." +</p> + +<p> +"Your father wires, 'put no more weight on the +bridge.' What shall we do?" interposed Colonel Illingworth. +</p> + +<p> +"Telegraph Abbott at once." +</p> + +<p> +"If the bridge goes it means ruin to the company," +said the agitated vice-president, who was the financial +member of the firm and who could easily be pardoned +for a natural exaggeration under the terrible +circumstances. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, but if it goes with the men on, it +means—Johnson, are you a telegraph operator?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"Take the key," said the Colonel, who, having been +a soldier, thought first of the men. +</p> + +<p> +Johnson sat down at the table where the direct wire +ran from the Bridge Company to the Western Union +office. He reached his hand out and laid his fingers on +the key. Before he could give the faintest pressure to +the instrument, it suddenly clicked of its own motion. +Everybody in the room stood silent. +</p> + +<p> +"They are calling us, sir," said Johnson. +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Illingworth nodded. +</p> + +<p> +"It is a message from Wilchings, the chief of +construction foremen of," Johnson paused a moment, +listening to the rapid click—"The International——" +he said in an awestruck whisper. +</p> + +<p> +It had come! +</p> + +<p> +"Read it, man! Read it, for God's sake!" cried the +chief engineer. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>The bridge is in the river,</i>" faltered Johnson slowly, +word by word, translating the fearful message on the +wire. "<i>Abbott and one hundred and fifty men with it.</i>" +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap12"></a></p> + +<h3> +XII +<br><br> +THE FAILURE +</h3> + +<p> +In spite of himself and his confidence in the bridge, +and every look at the huge trusses rising from the +massive piers and extending their long arms out +to meet their sister trusses beginning to rise on the +other side, re-enforced that confidence, Abbott felt a little +uneasy the next morning. At bottom he had more respect +for Meade's technical knowledge than he had displayed +or even admitted to himself. The younger engineer's +terrified alarm, his urgent pleading, his utter +forgetfulness of the amenities that usually prevailed +between them, his frantic but futile efforts to telephone, +of which the operator told Abbott in the morning, his +hurried departure to New York, were, to say the least, +somewhat disquieting, much more so than he was fain +to admit to himself. +</p> + +<p> +Although it involved a hard and somewhat dangerous +climb downward and took upwards of a half-hour of his +valuable time, the first thing the erecting engineer did +in the morning was to go down to the pier head and +make a thorough and careful examination of the buckled +member. C-10-R was the first great member of the +right-hand truss, as you crossed the bridge, that sprang +from the steel shoe and reached out over the water. It +was, of course, a part of the great lower chord of the +huge diamond-shaped truss, which, with its parallel +sixty feet away on the other side of the bridge and its +two opposites across the river, supported the whole +structure. If anything were wrong, seriously, irreparably +wrong, with the member and it gave way, the whole +truss would go. The other truss would inevitably follow +suit, and the cantilever would immediately collapse. +Abbott realized that, of course, as he climbed carefully +down to the pier head and stood on the shoe. +</p> + +<p> +Now the member was composed of four steel webs, each +one made up of several plates of steel riveted together +to form one huge plate. These four parallel webs were +bound into one member and held rigid by steel lacings, +which criss-crossed above and below the edges of the +four webs. These steel lacings were angle bars riveted +to the several webs and were also riveted through plates +where they crossed, and finally were fastened to the +edges of the webs. It was this massive and imposing +piece of structural steel work which had got a little out +of line, and which Abbott, perturbed in spite of +himself, had come down to inspect, to see if there were any +real ground for Meade's excitement and alarm. +</p> + +<p> +It is wonderful how well-trained our physical senses +may become. The final perfections of curvature in a +great lens are the results of refinements of the sense of +touch in the manufacturer's hands. So much had long +experience taught Abbott that, as he stood by the +member and surveyed it throughout its length, he could +easily see that it had buckled, although the deviation +was so slight, about two inches at its maximum in sixty +feet. He brought with him a line and, with infinite care +and pains, he drew it taut across the slight concavity +like a bow-string. He had estimated the camber, or the +distance between the center of the bow and the string, +at one and a half inches. As he made more careful +measurements, he discovered that it was slightly over +one and three-quarter inches. Did this denote an +increase? Abbott thought not. The difference simply +lay between an estimate, however careful, and the actual +measurements. +</p> + +<p> +An inch and three-quarters in seven hundred and +twenty was scarcely noticeable, not noticeable at all to +the untrained eye, unless actually squinting along the +line, and it did not seem very much to Abbott, standing +on the pier head and looking up through the network +of struts and bracing and girders. As he stood +there feeling himself an insignificant figure amid this +great interwoven mass of steel, again the sense of its +strength and stability came to him overpoweringly, so +much so that he laughed aloud in a rather grim fashion +at the unwonted nervousness which had been induced in +his mind by Meade's words and actions. +</p> + +<p> +He would have been content to have left the pier head +and have climbed back to the floor of the bridge, but he +was a conscientious man, so he pursued his investigations +further. He climbed up on top of the member, which +was easy enough by means of the criss-crossed lacing, +and carefully inspected that lacing. He did not, of +course, look at every one of the bars of steel that bound +together the giant webs that made up the member, but +he gave a very careful and minute scrutiny to the lacings +at the center of the concavity, or sidewise spring +from the right line. +</p> + +<p> +He noticed, by getting down on his face and surveying +the lacing bars closely, a number of fine hair-line +cracks in the paint, surface traceries apparently, +running here and there from the rivet holes. The rivets +themselves had rather a strained look. Some of the +outer rivets seemed slightly loose, where before they +must have been tight, for the members, like all other +parts of the bridge, had been carefully inspected at +the shop and any looseness of the rivets would certainly +have been noticed there. But, at the time these +discoveries were made, Abbott's obsession as to the +strength of the bridge had grown stronger. Lining it +out, crawling over it, feeling its rigidity, he decided +that these evident strains were to be expected. Of +course the lacings that held the webs together would +have to take up a terrific stress. They had been +designed for that purpose. +</p> + +<p> +The best engineer had made the design and now the +best erector found no radical fault with it. The other +members of the truss were still in line. Abbott +clambered over to the next one and examined some of the +lacings there. He found a few of those hair-line paint +cracks; not quite so many, but still some. He had +brought with him a small hammer and he struck the +lacing here and there, straining his ear to see if he +could discover any difference in resonance between +those at this point, at which the greater stress was being +brought, because of the curvature, and others in other +places. There was a difference, but it would have taken +a finer ear than Abbott's, somewhat deafened by the +constant noise of the pneumatic riveters, to realize the +danger in the slight increase in sharpness of the +resonance of the lacings that were most strained. Largely +because he did not find anything very glaring, and +because he wanted to believe what he believed, the chief of +construction left the pier head and clambered up to the +floor with more satisfaction in his heart than his +somewhat surprising anticipation, which had so unwillingly +grown under the stimulus of Meade's persistence, had +led him to expect. +</p> + +<p> +The whistle was just blowing for the commencement +of work when he got back to the bridge floor. He could +not but reflect, as the men came swarming along the +tracks to begin their day's work, that the responsibility +for their lives lay with him. Well, Abbott was a big +man in his way, he had assumed responsibilities before +and was perfectly willing to do so again, both for men +and bridge. The workmen at least had no suspicions or +premonitions of disaster. +</p> + +<p> +Wilchings, the chief erecting foreman, knew about +the camber. It had not bothered him. As he approached +the two exchanged greetings. +</p> + +<p> +"You're out early, Mr. Abbott," said Wilchings. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, I've been down to examine C-10-R." +</p> + +<p> +Wilchings laughed. +</p> + +<p> +"That little spring is nothing." He looked over the +track and through the maze of bracing at the member. +"If we had a pier somewhere we could hold up the earth +with that strut. You didn't find out anything, did +you?" +</p> + +<p> +"Not a thing except some hair-line cracks in the +paint around the rivets." +</p> + +<p> +"You'll often find those where there's a heavy load +to take up. This bridge will stand long after you and +I and every man on it has quit work for good." +</p> + +<p> +Now Wilchings was a man of experience and ability, +and if Abbott had needed any confirmation of his opinion +this careless expression would have served. He did +send him across the river to examine the half-completed +cantilever on the other bank, upon which work had been +suspended, awaiting shipments of steel. Wilchings later +reported that it was all right, which was what he +expected, of course, and this also added to Abbott's +confidence. +</p> + +<p> +The day was an unusually hard one. A great quantity +of structural steel that had been delayed and which +had threatened to hold up the work, arrived that day +and the chief of construction was busier than he had +ever been. He was driving the men with furious energy. +Even under the best conditions it would be well-nigh +impossible to complete the bridge on time. Abbott had +pride in carrying out the contract and the financial +question was a considerable one. Had it not been for +that, perhaps, he would have paid more attention to +Meade's appeal. So he hurried on the work at top +speed. +</p> + +<p> +But a man may be persuaded and yet not satisfied. +All day long Abbott, confident, yet unforgetting, had +in mind that questionable member. His work kept him +on shore a large part of the time and the further away +he got from it and from the powerful persuasiveness of +the actually existent standing bridge, the stronger grew +his unease. He sought to laugh himself out of it, to +strengthen his convictions that it was nothing by +self-ridicule. He worked himself up into a state of positive +resentment and anger against Meade. He cursed him +for a fool and himself likewise, still he could not get +away from the thought. It was in his mind. +Suppose—it was impossible to suppose! +</p> + +<p> +Late in the afternoon, without saying anything to +Wilchings, who had resumed his regular work, or to +anybody in fact, Abbott went down to look at the +member again. He climbed down a hundred feet or more to +make another examination at the expense of much +valuable time, for he had not passed so busy a day as that +one since the bridge began. Abbott's judgment and +reasoning told him that it was time thrown away. +Nevertheless, despite his convictions, he went. He made +another careful examination, and, in fact, duplicated +his procedure of the morning. Everything was exactly +as it had been. Those hair-line cracks had troubled him +a little despite Wilching's remark. He studied them a +second time. They were just as they had been, so far +as he could tell, no larger, no more numerous. The +lacings rang exactly the same under his hammer. +</p> + +<p> +Abbott was cool enough ordinarily, but he was now so +angry with himself for having given away to foolish +fears, that, in a fit of temper, he threw the hammer into +the water—and it was indicative of how the situation +had got on his nerves—as he declared to himself that he +would not go down there again. By this time old Meade +and the bridge people and Curtiss, the chief engineer, +must know all about it. He had actually visited the +telegraph office a dozen times—unnecessarily, of course, +since any wire would have been delivered at once to him. +The fact that he had not heard from them gave him +renewed confidence. They evidently regarded it of little +moment. They were probably laughing at Meade, +Junior, as they would laugh at him if they ever learned +of his nervousness. He realized, of course, that he could +never jack the springing member back into line. As +Meade had said, there was nothing to jack against. +Also it would be practically impossible to haul it back +by turn-buckles attached to the parallel truss. Indeed +he had only said these things carelessly. It would have +to stay the way it was until he got definite instructions +from Martlet what to do. +</p> + +<p> +He climbed back to the floor of the bridge and spent +the next half-hour inspecting the progress of the work. +The suspended span had already been pushed out far +beyond the end of the cantilever. The work on the other +side of the river had been stopped. As soon as they +got the suspended span halfway over they would transfer +the workmen and finish the opposite cantilever. +Abbott calculated that perhaps in another week they could +get it out if he drove the men. He looked at his watch, +grudgingly observing that it was almost five o'clock. +The men were nothing to Abbott. The bridge was +everything. That is not to say he was heartless, but the +bridge and its erection were supreme in his mind. As +he stood surveying the mighty structure he felt as +Napoleon might have felt when he looked beyond the +men and horses who would perish in the next battle he +was planning, to the mighty end he had in view. +</p> + +<p> +The material was arriving and everything was going +on with such a swing and vigor that he would fain have +kept them at work an hour or two longer. The men +themselves did not feel that way. Some of the +employees of the higher grades had got the obsession of +the bridge, but to most of them it was the thing they +worked at, by which they got their daily bread—nothing +more. +</p> + +<p> +Those who worked by the day were already laying +aside their tools, and preparing for their departure. +They always would get ready so that at the signal all +that was left to do was to stop. The riveters, who +were paid by the piece, kept at it always to the very last +minute. As Abbott watched and waited he was unusually +conscious in some strange way of the wild clamor +of the work. He had been standing near the outer end +of the cantilever and, as if to get rid of it, he turned +and walked toward the bank. The pneumatic riveters +were rat-tat-tatting on the rivet heads with a perfectly +damnable iteration of insistent sound. The steam +winch on the traveler was blowing off steam almost like +a locomotive, preparatory to the rest of the night. A +confused babel of voices, the clatter of hammers, the +slithering, ringing sounds of swinging steel grating +against steel as the huge cranes lifted the girders and +braces and dropped them in their places, the deeper +crash of beams being unloaded from the trucks and +dropped heavily on the stringers and floor beams, the +clanking of trucks, the grinding of wheels, the deep +breathing of the locomotives, mingled in a hard, harsh, +unharmonious diapason of horrid sound. Abbott's +usual iron nerves had been severely strained that day. +Ordinarily he was as indifferent to those noises as if he +had been a deaf man. Now they irritated him. In his +irritation he turned instinctively to the cause of it. +</p> + +<p> +He was right above the pier head now. He looked +down at it through the struts and floor beams and +braces, fastening his gaze on the questioned member. +There it stood satisfactorily, of course. Yet, something +impelled him to walk out on the nearest floor beam to the +extreme edge of the truss and look down at it once +more, leaning far out to see it better. He could get a +better view of it with nothing between it and him. It +still stood bravely. It was all right, of course. He +wished that he had never said a word about it to anyone. +He did not see why he could not regard it with +the indifference that it merited. As he stared down at +it over the edge of the truss the whistle for quitting +blew. +</p> + +<p> +Every sound of work ceased after the briefest of +intervals, except here and there a few riveters driving +home a final rivet kept at it for a few seconds, but only +for a few seconds. Then, for a moment a silence like +death itself intervened. It even seemed as if the ever +blowing wind had been momentarily stilled. That shrill +whistle and the consequent cessation of the work +always affected everybody the same way. There was +inevitably and invariably a pause. The contrast between +the noise and its sudden stoppage was so great that the +men instinctively waited a few seconds and drew a +breath before they began to light their pipes, close their +tool boxes, pick up their coats and dinner pails, and +resume their conversation as they strolled along the +roadway to the shore. +</p> + +<p> +It seemed to Abbott, who had often noted the psychological +effect of the stoppage of work on the men, that +it had never been so silent on the bridge before. There +was almost always a breeze, sometimes a gale, blowing +down or up the gorge through which the river flowed, +but that afternoon not a breath was stirring. The void +was as empty and as still as the hearts or minds of the +workmen. Abbott found himself waiting in strained +and unwonted suspense for the next second or two, when +the silence would be broken almost as if by concerted +effort by the men. +</p> + +<p> +While he waited, his eyes were not idle. They were +fixed on the member. The long warm rays of the +afternoon sun illuminated it so clearly that he could see +every detail of it. In that second immediately below +him, far down toward the pier head he saw a sudden +flash as of breaking steel. Low, but clear enough in +the intense silence, he heard a popping sound like the +snap of a great finger. Then the bright gleam of +freshly broken metal caught his excited glance. +</p> + +<p> +Abbott instantly realized what was happening. The +lacing was giving way. Meade was right. The member +would go and with it—— He had a second or two +to call his own. The habit, the character of the man +put them to the best use possible. The first pop or +two was succeeded by a little rattle as it might be a +rain of revolver shots heard from a distance, as the +lacings gave way in quick succession. It was a sort of +accompaniment to what Abbott shouted. He was a +man with a powerful voice and he raised it to its limit +and expanded it to its full compass. +</p> + +<p> +The idle workmen, just beginning to laugh and jest, +heard a great cry: +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Off the bridge, for God's sake!</i>" +</p> + +<p> +Two or three, among them Wilchings, who happened +to be within a few feet of the landward end, without +understanding why, but impelled by the agony, the +appeal, the horror in the great shout of the master +builder, leaped for the shore. On the bridge itself some +stepped forward, some stood still staring, others peered +downward. It takes minutes to tell it and to read it, +but probably not three seconds passed between the first +snap of the first lacing bar and the utter collapse of +the member. The great sixty-foot webs of steel wavered +like ribbons in the wind. The bridge shook as if in an +earthquake. There was a heavy, shuddering, swaying +movement and then the six-hundred foot cantilever arm +plunged downward, as a great ship falls into the trough +of a mighty sea. Sharp-keyed sounds cracked out overhead +as the truss parted at the apex, the outward half +inclining to the water, the inward half sinking straight +down. +</p> + +<p> +Shouts, oaths, screams rose, heard faintly above the +mighty bell-like requiem of great girders, struts, and +ties smiting other members and ringing in the ears of +the helpless men like doom. Then, with a fearful crash, +with a mighty shiver, the landward half collapsed on +the low shore, like a house of cards upon which has +been laid the weight of a massive hand. The river section, +carrying the greater load at the top and torn from +its base, plunged, like an avalanche of steel, two +hundred feet down into the river, throwing far ahead of +it, as from a giant catapult, the traveler on the +outward end of the suspended span and a locomotive on the +floor beneath. +</p> + +<p> +Wilchings, and the few men safe on the shore, stood +trembling, looking at the bare pier head, at the awful +tangled mass of wreckage on the shore between the pier +and the bank; floor beam and stringer, girder and strut, +bent, twisted, broken in ragged and horrible ruin, while +the water, deeper than the chasm it had cut, rolled +its waves smoothly over the agitations of the great +plunge beyond the pier. They stared sick and faint at +the tangled, interwoven mass of steel, ribboning in every +direction—for in the main the rivets held so it was not +any defect of joints, but structural weakness in the +body of the members that had brought it down—and +inclosing as in a net many bodies that a few seconds +before had been living men. +</p> + +<p> +They had seen body after body hurled through the +air from the outward end and, as they gazed fearfully +in horror here and there dark figures floated to the +surface of the water. They caught glimpses of white, +dead faces as the mighty current rolled them under and +swept them on. And no sound came from the hundred +and fifty who had gone down with the bridge. The +two-hundred foot fall would have killed them without +the smashing and battering and crashing of the great +girders that had fallen upon them or driven them from +the floor and hurled them, crushed and broken, into the +river. +</p> + +<p> +They stared across the crumpled ruin between them +and the pier and out beyond the now frightfully bare +stretch of water to the uncompleted truss still rising +grandly on the other side and the very contrast between +its mass and strength and splendor emphasized the +frightful, awe-inspiring nakedness of the battered pier +before them. +</p> + +<p> +Yes, Meade had been right. Abbott had one swift +flash of acknowledgment, one swift moment packed with +such regrets as might fill a lifetime—an eternity in a +Hell of Remorse—before he, like the rest, had gone +down with the bridge! +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap13"></a></p> + +<h3> +XIII +<br><br> +THE WOMAN'S CHOICE +</h3> + +<p> +The message was received in ghastly silence. The +blood ran cold in the veins as the people in the +room took in the awful disaster. No one spoke +for a moment, none moved. They had all been shocked +into insensibility. Colonel Illingworth's face had lost +its pallor. It was fiery red as if gorged with blood. +Bertram Meade was whiter than any other man in the +room. He was thinking of his father. What an end +to such a career! One failure to outweigh a thousand +successes. +</p> + +<p> +The girl moved first. Her father and the young +engineer were the two men in whom she was most +interested, the two who were most deeply touched. They +were both in agony, both in need of her. To which +would she go? Unhesitatingly she stepped to the side +of the younger. For this cause shall a woman leave her +father and her mother! And never believe but that the +father saw and understood even in the midst of his +suffering. Youth thinks not, but fathers always know. +</p> + +<p> +Helen Illingworth laid her hand on Meade's arm. She +pressed close to his side. Together they confronted the +older man. She had chosen. +</p> + +<p> +"We are ruined," gasped the Colonel, tugging at his +collar. "It's not so much the financial loss, although +we put millions into that bridge, which now is only good +for the scrap heap. We could stand that—but our +reputation! We'll never get another contract. I might +as well close the works. And it is your father's fault. +It's up to him. He was the greatest bridge engineer on +this continent. He revised our design. He changed +it in accordance with his knowledge and experience and +he gave us column formulas of his own. The blood of +those men is upon his head. Well, sir, I'll let the whole +world know how grossly incompetent he is, how——" +</p> + +<p> +"Sir," said young Meade, standing very erect and +whiter than ever, since the hour had come to take the +blame, "the fault is mine. I made the calculations. I +checked and rechecked them. Nobody could know with +absolute certainty the ability of the lower chord members +to resist compression. But whatever the fault, it is +mine. My father had absolutely nothing to do with it. +He is——" +</p> + +<p> +"He's got to bear the responsibility," cried the +Colonel passionately. "It has his name——" +</p> + +<p> +"No, I tell you," thundered the younger man. "For +I'll proclaim my own responsibility. You knew that I +had much to do with it. You said at the time that you +were playing in great luck because you got not only +the experience of my father, but the knowledge and the +latest methods of his son, for one figure. Now the +fault is all mine and I'll publish the fact from one +end of the world to the other." +</p> + +<p> +"It's a load I wouldn't want to have on my +conscience," said Colonel Illingworth. +</p> + +<p> +"The ruin of a great establishment like the Martlet," +added Dr. Severence. +</p> + +<p> +"The dishonor to American engineering," said Curtiss. +</p> + +<p> +"And the awful loss of life," continued the Colonel. +</p> + +<p> +"I assume them all," protested the young man, +forcing his lips to speak, although the cumulative +burdens set forth so clearly and so mercilessly bade fair +to crush him. +</p> + +<p> +"It was only a mistake," protested Helen Illingworth, +drawing closer to her lover's side, and with +difficulty resisting a temptation to clasp him in her +arms. +</p> + +<p> +"A mistake!" exclaimed her father bitterly. +</p> + +<p> +"You said yourself," urged the woman, turning to +the chief engineer, "that you didn't know whether the +designs would work out, that nobody could know, but +you were convinced that they would." +</p> + +<p> +"I did," admitted Curtiss. +</p> + +<p> +"Under the circumstances, then," said the girl, "I +stand by——" +</p> + +<p> +"Wait," interrupted the father. "Meade, there is +one consequence you have got to bear that you haven't +thought of." +</p> + +<p> +"What is that?" +</p> + +<p> +"Helen." +</p> + +<p> +"What do you mean?" +</p> + +<p> +"Do you think I'd let my daughter marry a man +who had ruined me, an incompetent engineer by his own +confession, a——" +</p> + +<p> +"It is just," said Meade. "I have nothing further +to do here, gentlemen. I must go to my father." +</p> + +<p> +"Just or not," cried Helen Illingworth, "I can't +allow you to dispose of me in that way, father. If he +is as blamable as he says he is, and as you say he is, now +is the time above all others for the woman who loves +him to stand by him." +</p> + +<p> +"Miss Illingworth, you don't know what you are +saying," said Meade, forcing himself into a cold +formality he did not feel. "I am disgraced, shamed. +There is nothing in life for me. My chosen +profession—my reputation—everything is gone." +</p> + +<p> +"The more need you have for me, then." +</p> + +<p> +"It is noble of you. I shall love you forever, +but——" +</p> + +<p> +He turned resolutely away and walked doggedly out +of the room. Helen Illingworth made a step to follow +him. +</p> + +<p> +"Helen," interposed her father, catching her almost +roughly by the arm in his anger and resentment, "if +you go out of this door after that man, I'll never speak +to you again." +</p> + +<p> +"Father, I love you. I'm sorry for you. I would +do anything for you but this. You have your friends. +That man, yonder, has nothing, nothing but me. I +must go to him." +</p> + +<p> +She turned and went out of the room without a +backward look or another word, no one detaining her. +Now it happened that by hurrying down the hill in the +station wagon, which he had bidden wait for him, +Bertram Meade had just caught a local train, which +made connections with the Reading Express some +twenty miles away, and Helen Illingworth in her +dog-cart reached the station platform just in time to see +it depart. She thought quickly and remembered that +ten miles across the country another railroad ran and +if she drove hard she could possibly catch a train which +would land her in Jersey City a few minutes before +the train her lover caught. +</p> + +<p> +She ran to the telephone and called for her own car +in a hurry. She jumped into it a few minutes later and +told the chauffeur that she wanted to catch the next +express on the Pennsylvania Road. The news of the +fall of the bridge was already abroad in the town. The +man had heard how Meade had taken the blame, and +had caught the local by furious driving. He had heard +how Miss Illingworth had followed. It had become +known, through her maid, that Meade and the president's +daughter were engaged. The chauffeur scented a +romance at once. And he drove the car as he had +never driven before. +</p> + +<p> +The girl caught the express and reached Manhattan +Junction on time. In this case there was no delay. She +had decided <i>en route</i> that it would be impossible for her +to get from the Pennsylvania station to the Reading +station in Jersey City in time to intercept her lover in +the short margin of time at her disposal and she had +determined upon a course of action. She would ride +to the Hudson Terminal in the city and then go first +to the office of Bertram Meade, Senior. If he were +not there she would go to his residence. She had visited +both places before, and she was certain that she would +find both Meades at one place or the other. +</p> + +<p> +The newsboys on the street were already crying the +loss of the bridge. She saw the story displayed in lurid +red headlines as she sprang into the taxi and bade the +chauffeur hurry her to the Uplift Building further +downtown. The bill she handed him in advance made +him recklessly break the speed-limit, too. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap14"></a></p> + +<h3> +XIV +<br><br> +FOR THE HONOR OF THE SON +</h3> + +<p> +Bertram Meade, Senior, had not left the +office during the whole long afternoon. The +stunning force of his son's utterly unexpected +announcement had wrecked the father as surely as the +defective member would wreck the bridge. The boy +might delude himself with the youthful hope that +something could be done to save it, but the old man knew +that the bridge was doomed and he realized that his +own ruin in professional fame would follow its downfall. +</p> + +<p> +He sat alone in his office quietly waiting for the end, +not as one awaiting a death sentence, but rather as one +who had been tried, convicted, and sentenced might +await the moment of execution. As to the drowning, in +the brief interval preceding the final asphyxia, life +unrolls in rapid review, so pictures of the past took form +and shape in his mind. He recalled many failures. No +success is uninterrupted and unbroken. The little +stones of progress are planted on the recurrent hills of +mistake. It is through constant blundering that we +arrive. "Roses, roses all the way" generally ends in +the gibbet. He had learned to achieve by failing as +everybody else learns. But failures and mistakes, which +were pardonable in the beginning of his career, +could not be condoned now; those should have taught +him. He realized too late that his later achievement +had begot in him a kind of conviction of omniscience, a +belief in his own infallibility, bad for a man. His pride +had gone before, hard upon approached the fall. He +had been so sure of himself that even when the +possibility that he might be mistaken had been pointed out +and even argued, he had laughed it to scorn. His son's +arguments he had held lightly on account of his youth +and comparative inexperience—to his sorrow he realized +it, too late. +</p> + +<p> +Again came that strange feeling of pride, the only +thing which could in any way alleviate his misery or +lighten his despair. It was his own son who had +pointed out the possible defect. Youth more often +than not disregards the counsel of age. In this case +age had made light of the warnings of youth. It was +a strange reversal he thought, grimly recognizing a +touch of sardonic and terrible humor in the situation. +</p> + +<p> +Of course in that swift survey of his career which +he was making, he counted success after success, +cumulating in magnitude and greatness. Not easily, not +lightly, had he risen to the chief place in his +profession. Verily his path to the stars had been through +difficulties, as well as failure, and yet he recognized +bitterly that no one would ever think of his success +again in the face of this one awful failure. Certain +words that he had read in his Bible came to him and +seemed strangely applicable, though here was no +question of moral guilt. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>When the righteous turneth away from his righteousness +and committeth iniquity—shall he live? All +his righteousness that he hath done shall not be +mentioned; in his trespass that he hath trespassed and in +his sin that he hath sinned, in them shall he die.</i>" +</p> + +<p> +He had always rather felt some injustice in the +proposition despite its divine sanction. He had +questioned it. He did not question it now. He knew that +when men looked at the finest structure due to his +cunning devising and scientific planning they would +say: +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, that's one of Meade's designs. I wonder how +long it will stand. You know he was responsible for +the International." +</p> + +<p> +In his case the end would not crown the work. It +would destroy it. He would be remembered as one +confounded like the builders of Babel, the tower by +which men overpassed the limit divine. +</p> + +<p> +"Whom the gods destroy they first make mad." Well, +he had been mad enough. If he had only listened +to the boy. And now there was nothing he could do but +wait. Yes, as the long hours passed and the sun +declined, and the evening approached, there suddenly +flashed upon him that there was still something he could +do. He had experienced some strange physical sensations +during that afternoon, unease in his breast, some +sharp pains about his heart. What did it mean? Was +it mental or physical? He forgot them for the moment +in the idea that had come to him. +</p> + +<p> +When the bridge fell he would avow the whole +responsibility, take all the blame. Fortunately for his +plans his son had reduced to writing his views on the +compression members, which had almost taken the form +of protest, and this letter had been handed to his +father. His first mind had been to tear it up after +he had read it and had overborne the objections +contained therein, but on second thought he had carefully +filed it away with the original drawings. It was, of +course, in the younger Meade's own handwriting. +</p> + +<p> +He went to his private safe, unlocked it,—and that +he was a long time over the combination might have +been indicative of his state, but he thought of the delay +with nothing but vexation—and brought out the plans. +He had intended upon the completion of the bridge to +give the letter back to the young man. He had +keenly enjoyed by anticipation his prospective little +triumph when time had proved the father right, the +son wrong. He opened the drawings and found the +letter attached to the sheet of drawings. He put back +the other drawings and closed the safe without locking +it. Then he went back to the desk and considered the +document. There were the calculations of the younger +Meade. He was too old and tired to verify them all and +there was no need. The bridge itself was doing that. +</p> + +<p> +But he read the letter over, and in the illumination of +the event he wondered dumbly how he could have failed +to see the clearness, the cogency of the arguments, the +finality of the conclusions, even without the careful +computations he could not now follow. He had been +blind, mad. He laid the paper down on his desk and +put his hand to his heart. Yes, that pang must be +mental. +</p> + +<p> +We look before and after. Some super-men, perhaps, +see more at the first glance than at the second, but most +men, even the great, comprehend more largely in the +afterlook. These papers, when they were published, with +his own comment or admission, would rehabilitate the +younger Meade. They would do more to confirm his own +damnation because it would appear from them that he +had been unable even to see the truth when it was +presented to him. Well, he would be condemned so +completely anyway that any addition, or subtraction for +that matter, would scarcely alter the state of affairs. +</p> + +<p> +Of course he would submit those papers to the public +at once. Was there anything else he could do? Yes. +He sat down at the desk and drew a sheet of paper +before him and began to write. Slowly, tremblingly, he +persevered, carefully weighing his words before he +traced them on the paper. He had not written very +long before the door of the outer office opened and he +heard the sound of soft footsteps entering the room. +He recognized the newcomer. It was old Shurtliff, a +man who had been his private secretary and confidential +clerk for many years. He stopped writing and called +to him. +</p> + +<p> +To a wonderful capacity for divining his employer's +mind and completing his often brief and unfinished +sentences by an intuition which was almost uncanny, +Shurtliff added a quietness of manner that would have been +annoying to some men, but which was most admirably +complementary to the brisk, brusque, hurried, energetic +habit of his employer and friend, who was all action, +who could never draw a plan even or make a design +without leaving it at frequent intervals to walk up and +down the room or to throw up his arms, to get motion +and action into life. +</p> + +<p> +Shurtliff was an old bachelor, gray, thin, tall, +reticent. He had but one passion—Meade, Senior; but one +glory—the reputation of the great engineer. Yes, and +as there is no great passion without jealousy, Shurtliff +was filled with womanly jealousy of Bertram Meade +because his father loved him and was proud of him. +Shurtliff knew all about the private affairs of the two +engineers, father and son. He knew all about the +protest of the younger Meade. The father had told +him just what he intended to do with it. +</p> + +<p> +Shurtliff's life was bound up in the office. Even +holidays and Sundays found him there for a part of the +time at least. He might not have anything at all to +do, indeed his work had been growing lighter as the +older Meade had gradually withdrawn himself from +active practice, but the old secretary was only happy +there. He could breathe more freely and think more +pleasantly and live more contentedly in the office than +anywhere else. He had few friends. None at all who +weighed in the balance with the older Meade. +</p> + +<p> +Shurtliff might have been a great man if left to +himself or forced to act for himself. But pursuing a +great passion so long as he had he had merged himself +in the more aggressive personality of his employer +and friend. He had received a good engineering education, +but had got into trouble over a failure, a rather +bad mistake in his early career, too big to be rectified, to +be forgiven, or condoned. The older Meade had taken +him up, had been kind to him, had offered to try to put +him on his feet again, but Shurtliff had grown to love +the temporary work in which he had been engaged and +he had no wish for anything else. +</p> + +<p> +His big failure had increased his natural timidity, +so he stayed on. He had become a part of the old +man's life. As years went by the secretary came to +realize that he could never be anything else. The +ambitions of youth were abandoned. He no longer +dreamed dreams or saw visions. Well, why not? He +was absolutely alone in the world. Meade had dealt +generously with his humble coadjutor; Shurtliff +reasoned, perhaps, that he had as much from life as was +coming to him; his church, his modest club, the charities +and benefactions he loved to indulge in, assurance for +his old age, and Meade himself. What could such a +man as he ask more? +</p> + +<p> +It has been said that he was jealous of the younger +Meade; not meanly, not unpleasantly jealous, more +resentful perhaps at the relative amount of affection +the god of his idolatry bestowed upon him. He knew +that he had to take second place and that he ought to +take second place, and that if he failed to do so it +would have been a reflection upon the character of the +man whose personality and fame were dearer to him +than anything else. Yet he did not enjoy that position. +</p> + +<p> +Young Meade had never been able to get very far +into the personality of Shurtliff, but he liked him and +respected him. He realized the man's devotion to his +father and he understood and admired him. Aside from +that jealousy the old man could not but like the young +one. He was too like his father for Shurtliff to +dislike him. The secretary wished him well, he wanted to +see him a great engineer. Of course he could never be +the engineer that his father was. That would not be +in the power of man. But still, even if he never +attained that height, he could yet rise very high. +Shurtliff would not admit that there was anything on earth +to equal Meade, Senior. +</p> + +<p> +In his dry, quiet way he had laughed with the older +man over the presumption in the younger man's +protest and argument. Oh, not in the presence of the +younger man of course, but he had thoroughly +enjoyed it. He was waiting for the time to come for the +return of the protest. Meade, Senior, who had accepted +all this devotion without hesitation and perhaps +without fully understanding it, had told him that as he +had heard the protest and argument he should be +present when it was returned. Shurtliff's own engineering +skill was not sufficient, since it had only been kept +up by association as a secretary to the elder man, not +in active practice, to enable him to pass judgment on +the point himself. +</p> + +<p> +The secretary was greatly surprised that afternoon +as he stopped beside his own desk in his little private +office, partitioned from the outer room, to hear his name +called from the inner office. He recognized his +employer's voice, of course, yet there was a strange note +in it which somehow gave him a sense of uneasiness. He +went into the room at once and stopped aghast. +</p> + +<p> +"Good God, Mr. Meade!" he exclaimed. +</p> + +<p> +Ordinarily he was the quietest and most undemonstrative +of men. There was something soft and subtle +about his movements. An exclamation of that kind had +hardly escaped him in the thirty years of their +association. He checked himself instantly, but Meade, +Senior, understood that something of his own mental +turmoil, the agony inward and spiritual, must have +appeared in the outward and visible. He did not doubt +his face told the story. The completeness of the +revelation and the terrible nature of the story he could not +guess. The day before Shurtliff had left Meade a +hale, hearty, vigorous, somewhat ruddy man. Now he +found his employer old, white, trembling, stricken. +Meade looked at Shurtliff with a lack-luster eye and +with a face that was dead while it was yet alive. +</p> + +<p> +"Mr. Meade," began the secretary a second time, +"what is the matter?" +</p> + +<p> +"The International Bridge," answered the other, and +the secretary noticed the strangeness of his voice +more and more. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, sir, what about it?" +</p> + +<p> +"It's about to collapse. Perhaps it has failed already." +</p> + +<p> +"Collapse? Impossible!" +</p> + +<p> +Meade passed his hand over his brow and then +brought it down heavily on the desk. +</p> + +<p> +"As we sit here, maybe, it is falling," he added +somberly in a sort of dull, impersonal way. +</p> + +<p> +Into the mind of the secretary came a foolish old +line: "London bridge is falling down, falling +down!" He must be mad or Meade must be mad. +</p> + +<p> +"I can't believe it, sir. Why?" +</p> + +<p> +"There's a deflection in one of the lower chord +members of one and three-quarters inches. It's bound to +collapse. The boy was right, Shurtliff," explained +Meade. +</p> + +<p> +"That can't be, sir," cried out the secretary with +startling energy. +</p> + +<p> +He would not allow even the idol itself to say that +its feet were of clay. +</p> + +<p> +"It can and is. He was right and I was wrong. I +am ruined." +</p> + +<p> +"Don't say that, sir. You have never failed in +anything. There must be some means." +</p> + +<p> +"Shurtliff, you ought to know there is no power on +earth could save that member. It's only a question of +time when it will fail." +</p> + +<p> +"But young Mr. Meade?" +</p> + +<p> +"He telegraphed me last night—this morning. I +didn't get the wire. He couldn't make telephone +connections, so he came down on the night train. Abbott +refuses to take the men off the bridge unless he gets +orders from Martlet. We tried to get in touch with +them. At last he went down himself. I am expecting +a wire every minute. If the bridge will only stand +until quitting time the men will all be off, and there +won't be any lives lost, but if not——" +</p> + +<p> +The secretary leaned back against the door-jamb, put +his hand over his face, and shook like a leaf. The old +man eyed him. +</p> + +<p> +"Don't take it so hard," he said. "It's not your +fault, you know." +</p> + +<p> +"Mr. Meade," burst out the other man, "you don't +know what it means to me. A failure myself, I have +gloried in you. I—you have been everything to me, +sir. I can't stand it." +</p> + +<p> +"I know," said Meade kindly. He rose and walked +over to the man, laid his hand on his shoulder, took his +other hand in his own. "It hurts more, perhaps, to +lose your confidence in me than it would to lose the +confidence of the world." +</p> + +<p> +"I haven't lost any confidence, sir. We all make +mistakes. I made one, you know, and you took me up." +</p> + +<p> +"It's too late for anybody to take me up. Men +can't make mistakes at my age. No more of that. +We have still one thing to do." +</p> + +<p> +"And what is that, sir?" +</p> + +<p> +"Set the boy right before the world." +</p> + +<p> +"And ruin yourself?" +</p> + +<p> +"Of course, the truth is what ruins me." +</p> + +<p> +"But if I were your son, sir," said the secretary, +"rather than see you ruined I would take the blame +on myself. He can live it down." +</p> + +<p> +"But he is not to blame. On the contrary he was +right, and I was wrong. Here, Shurtliff, is his own +letter. You know it, you saw him give it to me. You +heard the conversation and I have written out a little +account explaining it, stating that I made light of his +protests, acknowledging that he was right and I was +wrong, taking the whole blame upon myself. He will +be back here tonight I am sure. I intended to give it +to him." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, don't do that, Mr. Meade." +</p> + +<p> +"You have no son of your own. You don't know +what you ask." +</p> + +<p> +"Let the boy bear it," urged Shurtliff desperately. +"By my long service to you, I beg——" +</p> + +<p> +The telephone bell rang. +</p> + +<p> +"The Bridge!" clamored the insistent bell. +</p> + +<p> +The two old men stared at the instrument. It was +the weaker who acted, in obedience to a sign from the +engineer. Staggering almost like a drunken man, +Shurtliff left his place by the door and passing his +companion, whose turn it was to shrink back against +the wall, he reached his thin hand out and lifted up the +telephone, its bell vibrating it seemed with angry, +venomous persistence through the quiet room. +</p> + +<p> +"It's a telegram," he whispered. "Yes, this is +Mr. Meade's private secretary. Go on," he answered into +the mouthpiece of the telephone. +</p> + +<p> +There was another moment of ghastly silence while +he took the message. It was typical of Shurtliff's +character that in spite of the horrible agitation that filled +him, he put the instrument down carefully on the desk, +methodically hanging up the receiver before he turned +to face the other man. He spoke deprecatingly. No +woman could exceed the tenderness he managed to +infuse into his ordinarily dry, emotionless voice. +</p> + +<p> +"The bridge is in the river, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"Of course, any more?" +</p> + +<p> +"Abbott—and one hundred and fifty men with it." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, my God!" said the old man. +</p> + +<p> +He staggered forward. Shurtliff caught him and +helped him down into the big chair before the desk. +The news had been discounted in his mind, still some +kind of hope had lingered there. Now it was over. +</p> + +<p> +"We must wire Martlet," he gasped out. +</p> + +<p> +"The telegraph office said the message was addressed +to you and Martlet, so they have got the news, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"It won't be too late for the last editions of the +evening papers, either," said the old man. "Shurtliff, +I was going to give these documents to the boy when he +got back, but I want them to appear simultaneously +with the news of the failure of the bridge. Wait." He +seized the pen and signed his name to the brief letter +of exculpation. +</p> + +<p> +The writing in the body of the document was weak +and feeble, the signature was strong and bold. He +gathered the papers up loosely. +</p> + +<p> +"Here," he said, "I want you to take them to a +newspaper—the <i>Gazette</i>—that will be certain to issue an +extra if it is too late for the last edition. I want this +letter of his with mine to go side by side with the +news. There must not be a moment of uncertainty +about it." +</p> + +<p> +"Mr. Meade, for God's sake——" +</p> + +<p> +"Don't stop to argue with me now. Take a taxi and +get there as quickly as you can. You are carrying my +honor, and my son's reputation. Go." +</p> + +<p> +The old man spoke sharply—imperiously—in such a +tone as he rarely used to the other. White as death +himself, and greatly shaken, Shurtliff took the papers, +folded them up methodically, and hunted for an +envelope. +</p> + +<p> +"Don't stay for anything, Shurtliff," repeated +Meade, "but go quickly. Stay at the <i>Gazette</i> office +until the extra comes out. Bring me one. I'll wait here +for you." +</p> + +<p> +Shurtliff did not dare to say anything further. +Although thousands of protests rushed to his lips he did +not give them utterance. As if it had been an ordinary +commission he was charged to execute, he turned and +walked out of the room. He paused as he reached the +door and looked back. The old engineer sat before +his desk, the pen still in his right hand, his left hand +clenched and extended across the desk. He sat erect. +Something of the dignity and the pride and strength +and firmness of the days before had come back to him. +He smiled faintly. His old friend closed the door +behind him and departed. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap15"></a></p> + +<h3> +XV +<br><br> +FOR THE HONOR OF THE FATHER +</h3> + +<p> +Two and one-half hours later a group of anxious +reporters, clustered at the door of the Uplift +Building, were galvanized into life by the arrival +of a taxicab. The chauffeur had driven like one +possessed. Out of it leaped Bertram Meade. He was +recognized instantly. +</p> + +<p> +"At last," said the foremost of them, as he recognized +the newcomer. "We'll get something definite +now." +</p> + +<p> +"You know about the bridge, Mr. Meade," asked +another, striving to force his way through the crowd, +which broke into a sudden clamor of questioning. +</p> + +<p> +Meade nodded. He recognized the first speaker, their +hands met. This was a man of his own age named +Rodney, who had been Meade's classmate at Cambridge, +his devoted friend thereafter. Instead of active +practice he had chosen to become a writer on scientific +subjects and was there as a representative of <i>The +Engineering News</i>. There were sympathy and affection in +his voice, and look, and in the grasp of his hand. +</p> + +<p> +"Have you seen my father, Rodney?" Meade asked, +quickly moving to the elevator, followed by all the +men. +</p> + +<p> +"At the house they said he was not there, and here +at the office we get no answer." +</p> + +<p> +As Meade turned he saw his father's secretary +coming slowly through the entrance. +</p> + +<p> +"There's his secretary," he said. "Shurtliff," he +called out. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, Mr. Meade," said the old man, who was a +pitiable spectacle. +</p> + +<p> +For an instant young Meade realized what this would +be to Shurtliff. +</p> + +<p> +"My father?" +</p> + +<p> +"I left him in the office two hours ago." +</p> + +<p> +"Had he heard the news? +</p> + +<p> +"It had just come, sir, and——" +</p> + +<p> +"Where have you been?" +</p> + +<p> +"He told me to—to—go away and—and leave him +alone. I have been wandering about the streets. My +God, Mr. Meade, what is going to become of us?" +</p> + +<p> +Outside in the street the newsboys were shrieking: +</p> + +<p> +"Extry! Extry! All about the collapse of the +International Bridge. Two hundred engineers and +workmen lost." +</p> + +<p> +Shurtliff had one of the papers in his hand. Meade +tore it from him. +</p> + +<p> +"WHO IS RESPONSIBLE?" stared at him in big red +headlines. +</p> + +<p> +"Gentlemen," said Meade, "I can answer that +question"—he held up the paper so that all might +see—"the fault—the blame—is mine." +</p> + +<p> +"We'll have to see your father, Bert," said Rodney. +</p> + +<p> +"He can add nothing at all to what I have said, old man." +</p> + +<p> +"He will have to confirm it," said another. "It's +too grave a matter to rest on your word alone." +</p> + +<p> +"You can't see my father." +</p> + +<p> +"He is in this building, we know, and he'll never +leave it without running the gauntlet of us all," cried +another amid a chorus of approval. +</p> + +<p> +Meade realized there was no escape. They all piled +into the elevator with him and Shurtliff. They followed +him up the corridor. He stopped before the door +of the office. +</p> + +<p> +"I forbid you to come in," he said. "This is my +father's private office——" +</p> + +<p> +"Have no fear, Bert," said Rodney firmly. "We +don't intend to break in. We understand how you feel. +We won't cross that threshold unless and until you +invite us. But I point out to you that this is a matter +of the greatest public concern, that hundreds of lives +have been lost, that the whole world is interested, that +somebody is to blame. You say that you are, but your +father was the chief engineer. His is the responsibility +unless it can be shown otherwise." +</p> + +<p> +"If you will give me ten minutes, Rod, I will admit +you and all the rest. You can then see my father and +you may question him fully." +</p> + +<p> +"Very good, that's perfectly fair," said Rodney. +"And I am sure I speak for the others. We will wait +here until you say the word and then all we shall want +will be a statement from your father." +</p> + +<p> +"Thank you, old man. Come, Shurtliff," said Meade, +turning his key in the lock. The two men entered and +carefully closed the door behind them. +</p> + +<p> +The door was scarcely shut when Helen Illingworth +left the elevator and came rapidly up the corridor. +She had called at the office before and had no need to +ask the way. The reporters gathered around the door +moved to give her passage while they stared at her with +deep if respectful curiosity. Many of these men were +the iron and steel business reporters. They did not +know her, of course, but her beauty, her distinction, +and her interest, and even her distress, were evident. +The reporters who dealt in social matters would have +recognized her at once. Indeed her face was vaguely +familiar to some of them because she was a reigning +beauty and a belle, and her picture had appeared in +different papers many times. +</p> + +<p> +"Pardon me, gentlemen," she began, "but I am very +anxious to see the younger Bertram Meade." +</p> + +<p> +"He has just gone into the office," answered Rodney +respectfully. +</p> + +<p> +The girl raised her hand to knock. +</p> + +<p> +"A moment, please; perhaps you had better understand +the situation. The International Bridge——" +</p> + +<p> +"I know all about it." +</p> + +<p> +"I represent <i>The Engineering News</i> and these other +gentlemen various New York papers. Now Meade, +Junior, has just assumed the full responsibility for +the faulty construction and we are waiting to get +confirmation of that from his father. It is a serious +matter and——" +</p> + +<p> +The girl came to a sudden determination. She could +not declare herself too soon or too publicly. +</p> + +<p> +"My name is Illingworth," she said, and as the hats +of the surprised reporters came off, she continued, "I +am the daughter of the president of the Martlet Bridge +Company, which was erecting the International." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, Miss Illingworth," answered Rodney, "and +did you come here to represent him?" +</p> + +<p> +"I am Mr. Bertram Meade, Junior's, promised wife, +and I am here because it is the place where I ought to +be. When the man I love is in trouble I must be with +him." +</p> + +<p> +Now she raised her hand again, but Rodney was too +quick for her. He knocked lightly on the door and then +struck it heavily several times. The sound rang +hollowly through the corridor as it always does when the +door of an empty room is beaten upon. There was no +answer for a moment. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, I must get in," said the woman. +</p> + +<p> +Rodney knocked again and this time the door was +opened. Shurtliff stood in the way. He had been +white and shaken before, but there are no adjectives to +describe his condition now. So anguished and shocked +was his appearance that everybody stared. Shurtliff +moistened his lips and tried to speak. He could not +utter a word, but he did manage to point toward the +private office. +</p> + +<p> +"Perhaps I would better go first," said Rodney, as +the secretary stepped back to give them passage. +</p> + +<p> +Helen Illingworth followed and then the rest. Young +Meade was in the private office into which they all +came. He was standing erect by his father's chair. He +was pale and strained also, but in his eyes burned the +fire of deep determination. The great bulk of the old +engineer was slouched down in that chair. His body was +bent down over his desk. His head lay on the desk +face downward. One great arm, his left, extended +shot straight across the desk. His fist was clenched, +his right arm hung limp by his side. He was still. +</p> + +<p> +There was something unmistakably terrible in his +motionless aspect. They had no need to ask what had +happened. A sharp exclamation from the woman, not +a scream but a sort of catch of the breath as if to +repress an outbreak, was the only sound that broke the +silence, as she alone went toward the standing engineer. +The men stood there bareheaded while Helen Illingworth +passed around Rodney and stepped to her lover's side. +</p> + +<p> +"You can't question my father now, gentlemen," +said Meade, who from Meade Junior had suddenly +become Meade Only, "he is dead." +</p> + +<p> +In the outer office they heard Shurtliff brokenly +calling the doctor on the telephone and asking him to +notify the police. +</p> + +<p> +"Did he——" began one hesitatingly. +</p> + +<p> +"He was too big a man to do himself any hurt, I +know," answered Meade proudly, as he divined the +question. "The autopsy will tell. But I am sure that the +failure of the bridge has broken his heart." +</p> + +<p> +"And we can't fix the responsibility now," said +Rodney, who for his friend's sake was glad of this +consequence of the old man's death. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, you can," said the young man. +</p> + +<p> +He leaned forward and laid his right hand on his dead +father's shoulder. Helen Illingworth had possessed +herself of his left hand. She lifted it and held it to her +heart. The engineer seemed unconscious of the action +and still it was the greatest thing he had ever +experienced. Meade spoke slowly and with the most weighty +deliberation in an obvious endeavor to give his statement +such clear definiteness that no one could mistake it. +</p> + +<p> +"Here in the presence of my dead father," he began, +"whose life I have ended and whose career I have +ruined, but whose fame shall be unimpaired, I solemnly +declare that I alone am responsible for the design of +the member that failed. My father was getting along +in years. He left a great part of the work to me. He +pointed out what he thought was a structural weakness +in the trusses, but I overbore his objections. I alone +am to blame. The Martlet Bridge Company employed +us both. They said they wanted the benefit of my +father's long experience and my later training and +research." +</p> + +<p> +"Do you realize, Meade," said Rodney, as the pencils +of the reporters flew across their pads, "that in +assuming this responsibility which, your father being dead, +cannot be——" +</p> + +<p> +"I know it means the end of my career," said Meade, +forcing himself to speak those words. "My father's +reputation is dearer to me than anything on earth." +</p> + +<p> +"Even than I?" whispered the woman. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, my God!" burst out the man, and then he +checked himself and continued with the same monotonous +deliberation as before, and with even more emphasis, +"I can allow no other interest in life, however +great, to prevent me from doing my full duty to my +father." +</p> + +<p> +Indeed, as he had been fully resolved to protect his +old father's fame had the father survived the shock, +the fact that the old man was dead and helpless to +defend himself only strengthened his son's determination. +The appeal of the dead man was even more powerful +than if he had lived. Meade could not glance +down at that crushed, broken, impotent figure and +fail to respond. It was not so much love—never had +he loved Helen Illingworth so much as then—as it was +honor. The obligation must be met though his heart +broke like his father's; even if it killed him, too. +</p> + +<p> +And the woman! How if it killed her? He could +not think of that. He could think of nothing but of that +inert body and its demand. He had to lie, even to +swear falsely, before God and man if necessary, for +him. There was no other possible answer to what +Meade, wrongly if you will, but nevertheless unmistakably, +conceived to be his father's appeal. He completely +misjudged his dead father, to be sure. But +that thought did not enter his head. He spoke as he +did because he must. +</p> + +<p> +"Have you no witnesses, no evidence to substantiate +your extraordinary statement?" asked Rodney. +</p> + +<p> +"I can substantiate it," said Shurtliff, coming into +the room, having finished his telephoning. "The doctor +and the police will be here immediately, but before they +come——" and he drew himself up and faced the +reporters boldly. "Gentlemen, I can testify that +everything that Mr. Bertram Meade has said is true. I +happened to be here when my dead friend and employer +got the telegram announcing the failure of the bridge +and, although he knew it was his son's fault, he bravely +offered to assume the responsibility and he told me to +go to the newspapers and tell them that it was his +fault and that his son had protested in vain against +his design." +</p> + +<p> +"Why didn't you do it?" asked one of the reporters. +</p> + +<p> +"I couldn't, sir," faltered the old man. "It wasn't +true. The son there was to blame." +</p> + +<p> +He sank down in his seat and covered his face with +his hands and broke into dry, horrible sobs. It was +not easy for him either, this shifting of responsibility. +</p> + +<p> +"You see," said young Meade, "I guess that settles +the matter. Now you have nothing more to do here." +</p> + +<p> +"Nothing," said Rodney at last, "not in this office +at least. We must wait for the doctor, but we can +do that outside." +</p> + +<p> +"Rod, will you kindly take charge outside—my +father's secretary, you see, is not able to do so—and +let no one come in here except the doctor until the +police arrive. You have your story?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Rodney with a great pity for his friend, +in whose innocence he somehow continued to believe in +spite of what he had said. "We've had a full account +of the accident telegraphed from the works and now +this completes it." +</p> + +<p> +One by one the men filed out, leaving the dead +engineer with his son, the secretary, and the woman in +the room. +</p> + +<p> +The iron strain which Meade had put upon himself +gave way and not the least part of his breakdown was +the consciousness of the lie he had told so bravely and +so gallantly to shield his father. And now at last came +the realization that he had not only thrown away his +own reputation and career, but that he had cast the +woman he loved into the discard also. He drew his +hand away from her, turned, rested his head on his +arm on the top of the low bookcase as if to shut out +from his sight what he stood to lose. +</p> + +<p> +"Bert," said the woman, coming closer to him and +laying her hand on his shoulder, while he made no +effort to turn his head around, "why or how I feel +it I cannot tell, but I know in my heart that you are +doing this for your father's sake, that what you said +was not true. Things you have said to me——" +</p> + +<p> +"Did I ever say anything to you," began Meade in +fierce alarm, while Shurtliff started to speak but +checked himself, "to lead you to think that I suspected +any weakness in the bridge?" +</p> + +<p> +The woman was watching him keenly and listening +to him with every sense on the alert. Nothing was +escaping her and she detected in his voice a note of +sharp alarm and anxiety as if he might have said something +which could be used to discredit his assertion now. +</p> + +<p> +"Perhaps not in words but in little things, +suggestions," she answered quietly. "I can't put my hand +on any of them, I can hardly recall anything, but the +impression is there." +</p> + +<p> +Meade smiled miserably at her and again her searching +eyes detected relief in his. +</p> + +<p> +"It is your affection that makes you say that," he +said, "and as you admit there is really nothing. What +I said just now is true." +</p> + +<p> +It was much harder to speak the lie to this clear-eyed +woman, who loved him, than to the reporters. He +could scarcely complete the sentence, and in the end +sought to look away. +</p> + +<p> +"Bertram Meade," said the woman, putting both her +hands upon his shoulder, "look me in the face and +before God and man, and in the presence of your dead +father and remembering I am the woman you love, to +whom you have plighted yourself, and tell me that you +have spoken the truth and that the blame is yours." +</p> + +<p> +Meade tried his best to return her glance, but those +blue eyes plunged through him like steel blades. He +did not dream in their softness could be developed such +fire. He was speechless. After a moment he looked +away. He shut his lips firmly. He could not sustain +her glance, but nothing could make him retract or unsay +his words. +</p> + +<p> +"I have said it," he managed to get out hoarsely. +</p> + +<p> +"It's brave of you. It's splendid of you," she said. +"I won't betray you. I don't have to." +</p> + +<p> +"What do you mean?" asked the man. +</p> + +<p> +But the woman had now turned to Shurtliff. In his +turn she also seized him in her emotion and she shook +him almost eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +"You, you know that it is not true. Speak!" +</p> + +<p> +But she had not the power over the older man that +she had over the younger. The secretary forced himself +to look at her. He cared nothing for Miss Illingworth, +but he had a passion for the older Meade that +matched hers for the younger. +</p> + +<p> +"He has told the truth," he cried almost like a +baited animal. "No one is going to ruin the reputation +of the man I have served and to whom I have given my +life without protest from me. It's his fault, his, his, +his!" he cried, his voice rising with every repetition of +the pronoun as he pointed at Meade. +</p> + +<p> +Helen Illingworth turned to her lover again. She +was quieter now. +</p> + +<p> +"I know that neither of you is telling the truth," +she said. "Lying for a great cause, lying in splendid +self-sacrifice. You are ruining yourself for your +father's name and he is abetting. Why? It can't make +any difference to him now. It would not make any +difference to him even if you were responsible for the +collapse of the bridge. We all make mistakes. My father +has made many, and Mr. Curtiss. But it makes a +great difference to me. Have you thought of that? I'm +going to marry you anyway. All that foolish talk +about our marriage depending on the bridge is nothing. +I told my father so. He said he'd repudiate me if I +came here. But he'll not do that. He'll be terribly +angry, but he'll forgive me. Only tell me the truth, +Bert. By our love I ask you. If you want me to +keep your secret I'll do it. Indeed I'll have to keep it, +for I have no evidence yet to prove it false, but if you +won't tell me I'll get that evidence, I will find out the +truth, and then I shall publish it to the whole world +and then——" +</p> + +<p> +"And you would marry me then?" asked Meade, +swept away by this profound pleading. +</p> + +<p> +"I will marry you now, instantly, at any time," +answered the girl. "Indeed you need me. Guilty or +innocent, I am yours and you are mine." +</p> + +<p> +"You don't understand," said Meade. "I am +ruined beyond hope. I can't drag you down." +</p> + +<p> +"No," said the girl, "but you can lift me up as high +as your heart, and no man can place me in a nobler position." +</p> + +<p> +"Listen," protested the engineer, "nothing will ever +relieve me of the blame, of the shame, of the disgrace +of this. My life as it has been planned is now wrecked +beyond repair. I don't know whether this awful cloud +can ever be lifted, whether I can ever be anything again +among men. But I am a man. I have youth still, and +strength and inspiration. When I can hold up my head +among men and when I have won back their respect, it +may even be a meed of their admiration, I shall humbly +sue for that you now so splendidly offer, but until that +time I am nothing to you and you are free." +</p> + +<p> +There was a finality in his tone which the woman +recognized. She could as well break it down as batter +a stone wall with her naked fist. She looked at him a +long time. +</p> + +<p> +"Very well," she said at last, "unless I shall be your +wife I shall be the wife of no man. I shall wait +confident in the hope that there is a just God, and that +He will point out some way." +</p> + +<p> +"And if not?" +</p> + +<p> +"I shall die, when it pleases God, still loving you." +</p> + +<p> +"And being loved," he cried, sweeping her to his +heart, "until the end." +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap16"></a></p> + +<h3> +XVI +<br><br> +THE UNACCEPTED RENUNCIATION +</h3> + +<p> +The doctor and the officers of the law now +entered the outer office. Reluctantly the woman +drew herself away from the man's arms, which +were as reluctant to release her. In spite of the brave +words that had been spoken by the woman the man +could only see a long parting and an uncertain future. +He realized it the more when old Colonel Illingworth +entered the room in the wake of the others. After he +had recovered himself he had hurried to the station in +time to catch the next train and had come to New +York, realizing at once where his daughter must have +gone; besides his presence was needed in New York +in view of the catastrophe. +</p> + +<p> +He had brushed by the reporters, refusing to listen +to them. Not anticipating what he saw as he entered +the private office, the color faded from his face as he +became aware of the big, prostrate, inert figure bending +over the desk. It came again into his cheeks when he +saw his daughter. +</p> + +<p> +"My father is dead," said Meade as the doctor and +the officers of the law examined the body of the old +man. The son had eyes for no one but the old Colonel. +"The failure of the bridge has broken his heart; my +failure, I'd better say." +</p> + +<p> +"I understand," said Illingworth. "He is fortunate. +I would rather have died than have seen any son +of mine forced to confess criminal incompetency like +yours." +</p> + +<p> +"Father!" protested Helen Illingworth. +</p> + +<p> +"Helen," said the Colonel sternly, "you have no +business to be here. You heard what I said when you +left me. But you are my daughter, my only daughter. +I was harsh, perhaps, and hasty. I came to fetch you. +Are you coming with me or do you go with this man—this +incompetent—upon whose head is the blood of the +men who went down with the bridge, to say nothing of +the terrible material loss?" +</p> + +<p> +"Father," said the girl with a resolution and firmness +singularly like his own. "I can't hear you speak +this way, and I will not." +</p> + +<p> +"Do you go with him or do you not?" thundered +the Colonel. +</p> + +<p> +It was Meade who answered for her. +</p> + +<p> +"She goes with you. I love her and she loves me, +but I won't drag her down in my ruin." +</p> + +<p> +"It is he who renounces and not I," said the woman. +"I am ready to marry him now if he wishes." +</p> + +<p> +"I do not wish," said the man. +</p> + +<p> +And no one could ever know how hard was the utterance +of those simple words. +</p> + +<p> +"I am glad to see honor and decency are in you +still," said the Colonel, "even if you are incompetent." +</p> + +<p> +"If you say another word to him I will never go with +you as long as I live," flashed out Helen Illingworth. +</p> + +<p> +"I deserve all that he can say. Your duty is with +him. Good-by," said Meade. +</p> + +<p> +"And I shall see you again?" +</p> + +<p> +"Of course. Now you must go with your father." +</p> + +<p> +Helen Illingworth turned to the Colonel. +</p> + +<p> +"I shall go with you because he bids me, not because——" +</p> + +<p> +"Whatever the reason," said the old soldier, "you +go." He paused a moment, looking from the dead man +to the living one. "Meade," he exclaimed at last, +"I am sorry for your father, I am sorry for you. +Good-by, and I never want to see you or hear of you +again. Come, Helen." +</p> + +<p> +The woman stretched out her hand toward her lover +as her father took her by the arm. Meade looked at +her a moment and then turned away deliberately as if to +mark the final severance. +</p> + +<p> +With bent head and beating heart, she followed her +father out of the room. There he had to fight off the +reporters. He denied that his daughter was going to +marry young Meade. She strove to speak and he strove +to force her to be quiet. In the end she had her way. +</p> + +<p> +"At Mr. Meade's own request," she said finally, +"our engagement has been broken off. Personally I +consider myself as much bound as ever. I can say +nothing more except to add that my feelings toward +Mr. Meade are unchanged. If possible they are +enhanced, but in deference to his wishes and to my +father's——" +</p> + +<p> +"Have you said enough?" roared the Colonel, losing +all control of himself at last. "No, I will not be +questioned or interrupted another minute. Come." +</p> + +<p> +He almost dragged the girl from the room. +</p> + +<p> +Within the private office the physician said that +everything pointed to a heart lesion, but only an +autopsy would absolutely determine it. Meanwhile the +law would have to take charge of the body temporarily. +It was late at night before Bertram Meade and old +Shurtliff were left alone. Carefully seeing that no one +was present in the suite of offices Meade turned to +Shurtliff. +</p> + +<p> +"You know the combination of the private safe?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"Open it." +</p> + +<p> +The old man went to the door of the safe and +discovered that it was not locked. +</p> + +<p> +"It's open," he said. +</p> + +<p> +"Get me that memorandum I wrote to my father. +You know where he kept it." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, sir, separate from the other papers concerning +the International, in the third compartment." He +turned the big safe door slowly. The third +compartment was empty. "It's gone," he said. +</p> + +<p> +Meade looked at him sharply. +</p> + +<p> +"The plans are there?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, sir, in the other compartment just above it." +</p> + +<p> +"Look them over." +</p> + +<p> +"It's not here, sir," answered Shurtliff, making a +bluff at going rapidly through the papers. +</p> + +<p> +Meade went to the safe, a small one, and examined +it carefully and fruitlessly. His letter was not there +with the other papers, where it should have been if it +were in existence. It was not anywhere. +</p> + +<p> +"Father told me he was going to destroy it, but from +indications he let drop I rather thought that he had +changed his mind and was keeping it to have some fun +with me when the bridge was completed," he said at last. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, sir, that was his intention. In fact, I know +he did not destroy it at first. He told me to file it with +the plans." +</p> + +<p> +"And did you?" +</p> + +<p> +"I did." +</p> + +<p> +"Where is it, then?" +</p> + +<p> +"I don't know, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"Shurtliff, you knew my father better than anyone +on earth, didn't you?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, sir, and loved him." +</p> + +<p> +"Do you think he is the kind of man who would +relieve himself at my expense, or at anybody's?" Meade +almost shouted the words at the secretary. +</p> + +<p> +"No, of course not." +</p> + +<p> +"Where is it, then?" +</p> + +<p> +"I don't know, sir. On second thoughts he must have +destroyed it later. I haven't looked in this +compartment for weeks." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, it couldn't be anywhere but here unless it is +in his desk at home. I'll look there and you search the +office here. When it is found it must be destroyed. +You understand?" +</p> + +<p> +"I understand; trust me, Mr. Meade." +</p> + +<p> +"I'll never forget the lie you told to back me up, +Shurtliff. I can see you loved him as much as I." +</p> + +<p> +"No one will ever know the truth from me, sir. +You have saved your father's name and fame." +</p> + +<p> +"I couldn't save his life, though." +</p> + +<p> +"No, but what you saved was dearer to him than +life itself." +</p> + +<p> +"I think we had better search the office now. I +wouldn't have that paper come to life for the world," +said Meade. +</p> + +<p> +Shurtliff was the most orderly of men. The care of +the old engineer's papers and other arrangements had +devolved upon him. The search was soon completed. +The letter could not be found, and it never occurred to +Meade to search Shurtliff! +</p> + +<p> +"I guess he must have destroyed it," said the young +man, "but to be sure I will examine his private papers +at home. Good-night. You will be going yourself?" +</p> + +<p> +"In a few minutes, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"Come to me in the morning after the autopsy and +we will arrange for the funeral," said the younger man +as he left the office. +</p> + +<p> +Shurtliff waited until his footsteps died away in the +hall. He waited until he heard the clang of the elevator +gate. Even then he was not sure. He got up and in his +cat-like way opened the door of the office and peered +down the hall. It was empty. He stood in the door +waiting, while the night elevator made several trips up +and down without pausing at that floor. He sat down +at the dead man's desk. From his pocket he drew forth +a packet of papers. +</p> + +<p> +There were three of them. The letter the young +man had written to his father, with the plan and the +last note the old man had written to the papers. +Shurtliff had not delivered them. He could not make up his +mind to do it. He had correctly forecasted what Bertram +would attempt to do. He had not gone near the +<i>Gazette</i> office. He had withheld these papers from the +press. He had said nothing about them to anyone, in +the hope that he and the young man could persuade the +father to silence before the irreparable admission +became known. And finally a Power greater than he and +the son together could exercise had sealed the old man's +lips forever. +</p> + +<p> +In his hands the devotee held the fame and the honor +of the dead man he had so loved. What that dead man +would have had him do he knew beyond a shadow of +a doubt. He had not done it. He could not do it now. +He had disobeyed. He had lied. He had a keen +conscience, too, but the devotional habit of a lifetime was +not to be altered for any other man. Meade could live +it down. Shurtliff had lived down his failure. There +would be some way. The young man was alive, he +could fight. The old man was dead. The secretary +would better destroy the papers. +</p> + +<p> +He struck a match, held it to the two letters and the +plan and then, as the paper broke into a tiny flame, +he threw the match aside and crumpled it out in his +hands. The well-remembered face of the dead man, the +recollection of his commands, forbade him. He did not +have to give up those papers but he could not destroy +them. He put them back into the pocket of his coat +and bent his head over the desk, his left arm extended +across it and clenched just in the last position of the +man he loved. He wished that he could die, too, and +follow after, faithful servant and friend that he +was—or was he traitor and recreant after all? +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap17"></a></p> + +<h3> +XVII +<br><br> +THAT WHICH LAY BETWEEN +</h3> + +<p> +There were no legal proceedings, of course, that +could be brought against the dead engineer or +his son, although there were many inquests at +the bridge. The cause of the failure was clear. Man +cannot be punished in law for honest errors in +judgment. It was recognized by everyone, whose opinion +was worth considering, that the disaster had resulted +from a mistake which any engineer could have made. +As a matter of fact there was no experience to guide +the designers. There never had been such a bridge +before. Certain elements of empiricism had to enter +into their calculations. They had made the plan after +their best judgment and it had failed. They could be +blamed, censured, even vilified as they were in the press, +but that was the extent of their punishment; of Bertram +Meade's punishment, rather, because Rodney and +the other reporters had made much of his assumption +of the blame. There might have been a doubt of it, +engineers at least might have suspected the truth, but +the evidence of Shurtliff put it beyond reasonable doubt. +The older Meade escaped lightly. Men could only point +out his mistake in committing such responsibilities to so +young a man. And his dramatic death in large measure +disarmed criticism. +</p> + +<p> +The bitter weight of censure fell entirely upon +Bertram Meade. His ruin as an engineer was +immediate and absolute. He was the scapegoat. No one +had any good to say of him except Rodney, who fought +valiantly for his friend and classmate, at least striving +to mitigate the censure by pointing out the quick and +ready acknowledgment of the error which might have +been ascribed to the dead man without fear of +contradiction. +</p> + +<p> +An effort was made by competitors and stock speculators +to ruin the Martlet Bridge Company. By throwing +into the gap their private fortunes to the last +dollar and by herculean work on the part of their +friends, the directors saved the Martlet Company, +although its losses were tremendous and almost +insupportable, not only in money, but in prestige and +reputation. Colonel Illingworth came out of the struggle +older and grayer than ever. He went through the fires +in his effort to save the concern which had been the +foundation of his fortune and in which he felt a greater +interest than in anything else in life save his daughter. +He had led his company, his battalion, and finally his +regiment, on many a hard-fought field in the War, but +no battle had ever been fiercer or called upon him for +greater efforts than this. The terrific combat had left +him almost broken for a time, and his daughter saw +that it was not possible even to mention Bertram Meade +to him, then. +</p> + +<p> +She had a great sympathy, as well as a tender affection, +for her father. Albeit of a different kind, it was +almost as great and abiding as her sympathy and +affection for her lover. She had seen Meade only once +since that day he had taken her to his heart by the body +of his dead father and then put her away. +</p> + +<p> +The funeral of the great engineer had been strictly +private. Only his confrères, men who stood high in +scientific circles, certain people for whom he had made +great and successful designs, a few others whose ties +were personal, had been invited to the house for the +services. The interment was in the little Connecticut +town of Milford, in which the older Meade had been +born, and from which he had gone forth as a boy to +conquer the world. +</p> + +<p> +Shurtliff, the clergyman, and a few of his father's +oldest friends, accompanied the young engineer to the +car that was to take them to that village. They rode +with him to the quaint old cemetery and stood by while +those last words that are said over the greatest and the +weakest, over youth and age, over beauty and ugliness, +over virtue and shame, over triumph and defeat alike, +were uttered, and then at his wish they all went away. +They felt deeply for the ruined young engineer, who +bade them good-by and stood by the side of the grave +with Shurtliff, while the men filled it in. The special +car would take the others back to New York. Meade +would come later at his own time. +</p> + +<p> +"Shurtliff," said the engineer, after the mound had +been heaped up and covered with sods and strewn with +flowers and the workmen had gone, "I have left +everything I possess in your charge. You have a power of +attorney to receive and pay out all moneys; to deposit, +invest, and carry on my father's estate. The office is +to be closed and the house is to be sold. My will, in +which I leave everything to Miss Illingworth, is in your +hands. You are empowered to draw from the revenue +of the estate your present salary so long as you live. If +anything happens to me you will have the will +probated and be governed accordingly." +</p> + +<p> +"Mr. Meade," said the old man, and he somehow +found himself transferring the affection which he had +thought had been buried beneath the sod on that long +mound before him, to the younger man. He had loved +and served a Meade all his life and he began to see +that he could not stop now, nor could he lavish what +he had to give merely on a remembrance, "Mr. Meade," +he said, "you are not going to do yourself +any hurt?" +</p> + +<p> +"If you knew me as well as you knew my father you +would not ask the question." +</p> + +<p> +"I beg your pardon, sir, but we seem to be rather +alone, you and I, in the world." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Meade. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, forgive your father's old if humble friend, +if he asks where you are going and what you intend +to do?" +</p> + +<p> +"I don't know where I shall go, or what I shall +undertake eventually," said the man. "I'm going to +leave everything behind now and try to get a little rest +at first. Then, I shall try to make another place for +myself in the world, if I can, and I'm going to do it +without any of the advantages or disadvantages of the +period of my life which ends today." +</p> + +<p> +"And you will keep me advised of your whereabouts?" +</p> + +<p> +"I shall see that you get news of my death if I +die, Shurtliff, and if I do anything or become +anything——" +</p> + +<p> +"The world will advise me of that, you mean?" +</p> + +<p> +"Perhaps—I don't know. One last injunction: you +are not to tell anyone the truth." +</p> + +<p> +"God forbid," said Shurtliff, "we have lied to +preserve the honor and fame of him we loved who lies +here." +</p> + +<p> +"Don't render our perjuries of non-effect." +</p> + +<p> +"I will not, sir. I haven't found that paper. I +guess it was destroyed." +</p> + +<p> +"I presume so. And now, good-by." +</p> + +<p> +"Aren't you coming with me?" +</p> + +<p> +"I want to stay here a little while by myself." +</p> + +<p> +Shurtliff looked at the young man standing so strong +and splendid by the grave of his father. He put out +his hand. He never condemned himself so much before. +He began to wonder if he had pursued the right course. +He began to question whether he who lay beneath the +sod would approve of his suppression of the truth; of +the lie he had told to save the father's fame and honor +and to back up the assertion of the son. No, on the +whole, Shurtliff did not question that. He knew that +if it were possible the older man would rise from his +grave to assume the responsibility, to proclaim the +younger man innocent. Well, Shurtliff would save his +beloved chief in spite of himself. +</p> + +<p> +He released the young man's hand, turned, and +walked away. When he reached the road, down which +he must go, he stopped and faced about again. Meade +was standing where he had been. The old man took off +his hat in reverent farewell. +</p> + +<p> +Meade was not left alone. Beyond the hillside where +his father had been buried rose a clump of trees. Bushes +grew at their feet. A woman—should man be buried +without woman's tears?—had stood concealed there +waiting. Helen Illingworth had wept over the dreariness, +the mournfulness of it all. She had hoped that +Meade might stay after the others went and now that +he was alone she came to him. She laid her hand upon +his arm. He turned and looked at her. +</p> + +<p> +"I knew that you would be here," he said. +</p> + +<p> +"Did you see me?" +</p> + +<p> +"I felt your presence." +</p> + +<p> +"And would that you might feel it always by your side." +</p> + +<p> +The man looked down at the grave. +</p> + +<p> +"That," he said with a wave of his hand, "lies +between us, that and the ruined bridge." +</p> + +<p> +"Listen," said the woman. "You are wrecking your +life for your father's fame. A man has a right +perhaps to do with his own life what he will, but, when he +loves a woman and when he has told her so and she has +given him her heart, did it ever occur to you that when +he wrecks his life he wrecks hers, and has he a right to +wreck her life for anyone else?" +</p> + +<p> +"What would you have me do?" asked Meade. +"Unsay those words I said? Put the blame on the +dead, destroy in a breath that great record of achievement, +that vast reputation, the honor of a great name?" +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, but on this side is a woman's heart." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, my God," said Meade, "this is more than I +can bear." +</p> + +<p> +"I don't want to force you to do anything you +don't want to do and you are not in any mood to +discuss these things," she said in quick compassion. +"Some day you will come back to me." +</p> + +<p> +"If I can ever hold my head up among men, look +them straight in the eye because I have enforced their +respect, I shall come." +</p> + +<p> +"I shall wait." +</p> + +<p> +"The task before me daunts me. It is beyond human +achievement." +</p> + +<p> +"Even for love like mine?" +</p> + +<p> +He stretched out his hands toward her over the grave. +</p> + +<p> +"I don't know," he cried. "I dare not hope." +</p> + +<p> +"With love like ours," she answered, "all things are +possible." +</p> + +<p> +"I can't bind you. You must be free." +</p> + +<p> +"I shall be free, free to love you, free to work in my +own way. No loyalty"—she pointed down—"to him +binds me. My loyalty is all to you." +</p> + +<p> +"But you must consider my wishes." +</p> + +<p> +"No," said the woman boldly. "Have you considered mine?" +</p> + +<p> +"It is just," he said slowly, turning his head. +"You are breaking my heart, but I shall live and +fight on for love and you." +</p> + +<p> +"God bless you." +</p> + +<p> +"You are going away?" she asked at last. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes." +</p> + +<p> +"Where?" +</p> + +<p> +"I don't know." +</p> + +<p> +"You will write to me?" +</p> + +<p> +He shook his head. +</p> + +<p> +"I must break with everything. I must give you +your chance of freedom." +</p> + +<p> +"Very well," said the woman. "Now hear me. You +can't go so far on this earth or hide yourself away so +cunningly but that I can find you and maybe follow you. +And I will. Now, I must go. I left my car down the +road yonder. Will you go with me?" +</p> + +<p> +The man shook his head and knelt down before her +suddenly and caught her skirt in his grasp. His arms +swept around her knees. She yielded one hand to the +pressure of his lips and laid the other upon his head. +</p> + +<p> +"Go now," he whispered, "for God's sake. If I look +at you I must follow." +</p> + +<p> +She was great enough to heed his request, to understand +his mood, and as the old secretary had done she +walked across the grass and down the road. Her last +long glimpse of him was of a bent figure bowed over a +new-made grave on a wind-swept hill. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap18"></a></p> + +<h2> +III +<br><br> +DAM +</h2> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="capcenter"> +<a id="img-180"></a> +<br> +<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-180.jpg" alt="(sketch of dam area)"> +<br> +(sketch of dam area) +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<h3> +XVIII +<br><br> +PICKET WIRE AND KICKING HORSE +</h3> + +<p> +There are no more beautiful valleys anywhere +than those cut by the waters of primeval floods +through the foothills of the great snow-covered +Rocky Mountains. The erosions and washings of untold +centuries have flung out in front of the granite +ramparts a succession of lower elevations like the bastions +of a fortress. At first scarcely to be distinguished +from the main range in height and ruggedness these +ravelins and escarpments gradually decrease in altitude +and size until they turn into a series of more or less +disconnected, softly rounded hills, like outflung +earthworks, finally merging themselves by gradual slopes into +the distant plains overlooked by the great peaks of the +mountains. +</p> + +<p> +The monotony of these pine-clad, wind-swept slopes +is broken even in the low hills by out-thrustings of +stone, sometimes the hard igneous rock, the granite of +the mountains, more frequently the softer red sandstone +of a period later, yet ineffably old. These cliffs, +buttes, hills, and mesas have been weathered into strange +and fantastic shapes which diversify the landscape and +add charm to the country. +</p> + +<p> +The narrow cañons in which the snow-fed streams +take their rise gradually widen as the water follows its +tortuous course down the mountains through the subsiding +ranges and out among the foothills to the sandy, +arid, windy plains beyond. At the entrance of one of +the loveliest of these broad and verdant valleys, a short +distance above its confluence with a narrower, more +rugged ravine through the hills, lay the thriving little +town of Coronado. +</p> + +<p> +Some twenty miles back from the town at a place +where the valley was narrowed to a quarter of a mile, +and separating it from the paralleling ravine, rose a +huge sandstone rock called Spanish Mesa. Its top, some +hundreds of feet higher than the tree-clad base of the +hills, was mainly level. From its high elevation the +country could be seen for many miles, mountains on one +hand, plains on the other. It stood like an island in a +sea of verdure. Little spurs and ridges ran from it. +Toward the range it descended and contracted into a +narrow saddle, vulgarly known as a "Hog-back," where +the granite of the mountains was hidden under a deep +covering of grass-grown earth, which formed the only +division between the valley and the gorge or ravine, +before the land, widening, rose into the next hill. +</p> + +<p> +And people came from miles away to see that interesting +and curious mesa, much more striking in its appearance +than Baldwin's Knob, the last foothill below it. +Transcontinental travelers even broke journey to visit +it. The town prospered accordingly, especially as it +was admirably situated as a place of departure for +hunters, explorers, prospectors, and adventurers, who +sought what they craved in the wild hills. There were +one or two good hotels for tourists, unusually extensive +general stores of the better class, where hunting and +prospecting parties could be outfitted, and the +high-living, extravagant cattle ranchers could get what they +demanded. Besides all these there were the modest +homes of the lovers of the rough but exhilarating and +health-giving life of the Rocky Mountains. Of course +there were numerous saloons and gambling halls, and the +town was the haunt of cowboys, hunters, miners, +Indians—the old frontier with a few touches of +civilization added! +</p> + +<p> +What was left of the river, which had made the valley—and +during the infrequent periods of rain too brief to +be known as the rainy season, it really lived up to the +name of river—flowed merrily through the town, when +it flowed at all, under the name of Picket Wire. +Singular lack of ability to bestow a poetic nomenclature +upon nature might at first seem to be exhibited by the +pioneer in this nondescript title. Not so the truth. +</p> + +<p> +The pioneer was a poet unconsciously and filled with +a spirit of romance. No man adventures, unless under +the pressure of some inexorable necessity, into unknown +lands as the pioneers did, without imagination, romance; +vision, if you will. Plain though he may appear, the +pioneer is the real dreamer of dreams. In the bleak +and arid present, rough, wild, and unpromising, he can +see the future, his the eyes of the seer and prophet. But +when he tries to translate what he feels and sees, even +in the simplest ways by exercising the privilege of Adam +in naming the places he passes or stays by, he seems +to lack expression to fit his soul. +</p> + +<p> +For instance one of the most beautiful and romantic +mountain streams, ever fresh and clear, ever dashing +madly through one of the most stupendous cañons of +Colorado, is known as the Big Thompson! Shades of +Poseidon! What has water ever done to be so +called? Another example is a great swelling peak, +which strives to hold up its head when people point out +that it is called Mount Bill Williams! Bill it might +have stood, or Williams, but the combination! +</p> + +<p> +Well, there were romance and appositeness about the +silver stream that came dashing down from the snow-line, +and in the springtime it might fairly be said to +dash, called the Picket Wire. Into that very valley +and at the base of that mesa in which the four centuries +since had effected so little change had come, in the +following of Coronado, for whom the town was named, a +little party of Spanish explorers. Why they ascended +the valley over which the mesa stood sentry and why +they camped there rather than on the other side is not +told in the tradition which alone sets forth their fate. +That does not enter into this story. Suffice it, therefore, +to say that a cloudburst in the hills, a thing which +seems to have been as old as the hills themselves, wiped +them out entirely. All unprepared, unblest, unshriven, +they were swept away. Battered bodies, torn garments +below the mesa told the story to those that hunted for +tidings afterward. The valley was a place of horror. +The river of lost souls, "<i>Rio de las Animas</i>," the +Spaniards named it. +</p> + +<p> +Somehow or other the name stuck to it until a restless +French "coureur-de-bois," ranging far southward from +the Great Lakes, came upon it and its name. Promptly +identifying lost soul with purgatory he called it in turn +"<i>La Rivière-de-la-Purgatoire</i>," the river of purgatory, +as if to say, "All hope abandon, ye who enter here." In +turn the name supplanted the other and abided. +</p> + +<p> +When the cowboy followed the pioneer, knowing +neither French nor Spanish, he onomatopoetized the last +appellation into "<i>The Picket Wire</i>," which was as near +as he could come to the pronunciation of Purgatoire. +The Spanish passed, the French disappeared, the cowboy +and his like remained. Picket Wire it became and +Picket Wire it will remain to the end of the chapter. +There is no natural descent from lost souls to Picket +Wire, though many lost souls may have been lost +because of picket wires, but that is how it came to be. +And the original disaster was not entirely forgotten +either. It was perpetuated in the butte which became +"Spanish Mesa." France, alas, coming between, had +no memorial. +</p> + +<p> +Well, not being a purgatorial Styx, after a time the +valley and the ravine were both explored. The hills +were tapped in fruitless search for precious metals, +which were not found, and then it was abandoned to the +hunter. When the railroad came the Picket Wire had +been first studied in the hope of finding a practicable +way over the mountains, but the ravine on the other +side of the mesa had been found to offer a shorter and +more practicable route. And, by the way, this ravine, +taking its name from the little brook far down in its +narrows, was known as the "Kicking Horse"; so +named, no one knew why, by the Indians and freely +translated by the white men. At any rate there was +at least some association between Picket Wire and +Kicking Horse, as the experienced know! +</p> + +<p> +So the railroad ran up the ravine and the Picket +Wire was left still virgin to the assaults of man. But +the day came when it was despoiled of its hitherto long +standing, unravished innocence. Axes were laid to the +roots of the trees, drills were driven into the rocks of +the hills. Crashed down were the pines of the centuries, +crushed were paleocosmic rocks with new and strange +fires. Scarred and gashed and torn and ripped were +the grass-covered hills. Huge expanses of yellow clay +were revealed beneath the richer deposits whereon the +sod had flourished. +</p> + +<p> +Shouts of men, cracking of whips, trampling of +horses, groaning of wheels, wordless but vocal protests +of beasts of burden mingled with the ringing of axes, the +detonations of dynamite. The whistle of engines and +the roar of steam filled the valley. Under the direction +of engineers, a huge mound of earth arose across its +narrowest part, nearest a shoulder, or spur, of the mesa +reaching westward. No more should the silver Picket +Wire flow unvexed on its way to the sea. It was to be +dammed. +</p> + +<p> +All that the huge, hot inferno of baked plain, where +sage brush and buffalo grass alone grow, needed to +make it burgeon with wheat and corn was water. The +little Picket Wire, which had meandered and sparkled +and chattered on at its own sweet will was now to be +held until it filled a great lake-like reservoir in the hills +back of the new earth dam. Then through skillfully +located irrigation ditches the water was to be given to +the millions of hungry little wheatlets and cornlets, +which would clamor for a drink. The fierce sun was no +longer to work its unthwarted will in burning up the +prairie. +</p> + +<p> +The sage brush and buffalo grass were to go like +the Indian before the march of civilization. Nature is +more refined than man. The liquid that settled the +Indian was accurately known as "firewater." Incidentally, +the same compound took a great many whites, +not all the baser sort either. But that which was to +sweep away the greasy sage brush and the coarse, rank +grass, there being no longer any buffalo, was the water +of life which came down from heaven. At least the +snow caps of the range whence the Picket Wire flowed, +and the great clouds that once in a long time swept +over the peaks and dropped their burden on the bluff +shoulders of the mountains, were as near heaven as it is +possible to get on this earth. +</p> + +<p> +With the promise of water on the plain beyond, +Coronado sprang into sudden recrudescence of newer and +more vigorous life. In the language of the West it +"boomed." The railroad had been a forlorn branch +running up into the mountains and ending nowhere. Its +first builders had been daunted by difficulties and lack +of money, but as soon as the great dam was projected, +which would open several hundred thousand acres for +cultivation and serve as an inspiration in its practical +results to other similar attempts, people came swarming +into the country buying up the land, the price for +acreage steadily mounting. The railroad accordingly +found it worth while to take up the long-abandoned +construction work of mounting the range and crossing it. +Men suddenly observed that it was the shortest distance +between two cardinal points, and one of the great +transcontinental railways bought it and began improving it +to replace its original rather unsatisfactory line. +</p> + +<p> +The long wooden trestle which crossed the broad, +sandy depression in front of the town, the bed of the +ancient river, through which the Picket Wire and +further down its affluent, the Kicking Horse, flowed +humbly and modestly, was being replaced by a great +viaduct of steel. Far up the gorge past the other side +of the Spanish Mesa another higher trestle had already +been replaced by a splendid steel arch. A siding had +been built near the ravine, a path made to the foot of +the mesa, and arrangements were being made to run a +local train up from the town when all was completed to +give the people an opportunity to ride up the gorge and +see the great pile of rock, on which enterprise was +already planning the desecration of a summer hotel, the +blasphemy of an amusement park! +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap19"></a></p> + +<h3> +XIX +<br><br> +THE NEW RODMAN +</h3> + +<p> +Up the valley of the Picket Wire one morning in +early fall came a young man roughly dressed +like the average cow-puncher from the ranches +further north. He rode well, not with the carelessness +and security and mastery of the cowboy, yet with a certain +attention to detail and a niceness that betrayed him +to the real rough-rider of the range. Just as the clothes +he wore, although they had been bought at the same +general store where the ordinary cattleman's outfit was +purchased, were worn in a little different way that again +betrayed him. One look into the face of the man, +albeit his mustache and beard hid the revealing outlines +of mouth and chin, sufficed to show that here was no +ordinary cow-puncher. +</p> + +<p> +He rode boldly enough among the rocks of the trail +and along the rough road, which had been made by the +wheels of the wagons and hoofs of the horses. Yet a +close observer would have seen a certain hesitancy in +his approach. He checked his horse from time to time +and looked back. A bold man determined on a course +does not check his horse and look back, yet no one who +knew him could accuse this horseman of timidity. There +was about him some of the quiet confidence begot of +achievement, some of the power which knowledge brings +and which success emphasizes, yet there were uncertainty +and hesitation, too, as if all had not been plain sailing +on his course. +</p> + +<p> +To be the resident engineer charged with the +construction of a great earth dam like that across the +Picket Wire, requires knowledge of a great many things +beside the technicalities of the profession, chief among +them being a knowledge of men. As the newcomer threw +his leg over the saddle-horn, stepped lightly to the +ground, dropping the reins of his pony to the soil at the +same time, Vandeventer, the engineer in question, looked +at him with approval. Some subtle recognition of the +man's quality came into his mind. Here was one who +seemed distinctly worth while, one who stood out above +the ordinary applicant for jobs who came in contact +with Vandeventer, as the big mesa rose above the foothill. +However, the chief kept these things to himself +as he stood looking and waiting for the other man to +begin: +</p> + +<p> +"Are you the resident engineer?" asked the newcomer +quietly, yet there was a certain nervous note in his +voice, which the alert and observant engineer found +himself wondering at, such a strain as might come when a +man is about to enter upon a course of action, to take +a strange or perilous step, such a little shiver in his +speech as a naked man might feel in his body before he +plunged into the icy waters of the wintry sea. +</p> + +<p> +"I am." +</p> + +<p> +"I'd like a job." +</p> + +<p> +"We have no use for cow-punchers on this dam." +</p> + +<p> +"I'm not exactly a cow-puncher, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"What are you?" +</p> + +<p> +"Look here," said the man, smiling a little, "I've +been out in this country long enough to learn that all +that it is necessary to know about a man is 'Will he +make good?' Let us say that I am nothing and let it +go at that." +</p> + +<p> +"Out of nothing, nothing comes," laughed the engineer, +genuinely amused. +</p> + +<p> +Some men would have been angry, but Vandeventer +rather enjoyed this. +</p> + +<p> +"I didn't say I was good for nothing," answered the +other man, smiling in turn, though he was evidently +serious enough in his application. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, what can you do? Are you an engineer?" +</p> + +<p> +"We'll pass over the last question, too, if you please. +I think I could carry a rod if I had a chance and there +was a vacancy." +</p> + +<p> +"Umph," said Vandeventer, "you think you could?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, sir. Give me a trial." +</p> + +<p> +"All right, take that rod over there and go out on +the edge of the dam where that stake shows, and I'll +take a sight on it." +</p> + +<p> +Now there are two ways—a hundred perhaps—of +holding a rod; one right way and all the others wrong. +A newcomer invariably grasps it tightly in his fist and +jams it down, conceiving that the only way to get it +plumb and hold it steady. The experienced man strives +to balance it erect on its own base and holds it with the +tips of his fingers on either side in an upright position, +swaying it very slightly backward and forward. He +does it unconsciously, too. +</p> + +<p> +Vandeventer had been standing by a level already set +up when the newcomer arrived and the rod was lying on +the ground beside it. The latter picked it up without +a word, walked rapidly to the stake, loosened the target, +and balanced the rod upon the stake. As soon as +Vandeventer observed that his new seeker after work held +the rod in the right way, he did not trouble to take the +sight. He threw his head backward and raised his hand, +beckoningly. +</p> + +<p> +"It so happens," he began, "that I can give you a +job. The rodman next in the line of promotion has +been given the level. One of the men went East last +night. You can have the job, which is——" +</p> + +<p> +"I don't care anything about the details," said the +man quickly and gladly. "It's the work I want." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, you'll get what the rest do," said Vandeventer. +"Now, as you justly remarked, I have found that it is +not considered polite out here to inquire too closely +into a man's antecedents and I have learned to respect +local customs, but we must have some name by which to +identify you, make out your pay check, and——" +</p> + +<p> +"Do you pay in checks?" +</p> + +<p> +"No, but you have to sign a check." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, call me Smith." +</p> + +<p> +Vandeventer threw back his head and laughed. The +other man turned a little red. The chief engineer +observed the glint in his new friend's eye. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm not exactly laughing at you," he explained, +"but at the singular lack of inventiveness of the +American. We have at least thirty Smiths out of two +hundred men on our pay-roll, and it is a bit confusing. +Would you mind selecting some other name?" +</p> + +<p> +"If it's all the same to you," announced the newcomer +amusedly—the chief's laughter was infectious—"I'm +agreeable to Jones, or Brown, or——" +</p> + +<p> +"We have numbers of all of those, too." +</p> + +<p> +"Really," said the man hesitatingly, "I haven't given +the subject any thought." +</p> + +<p> +"What about some of your family names?" +</p> + +<p> +"That gives me an idea," said the newcomer, who +decided to use his mother's name, "you can call me +Roberts." +</p> + +<p> +"And I suppose John for the prefix?" +</p> + +<p> +"John will do as well as any, I am sure." +</p> + +<p> +"We have about fifty Johns. Every Smith appears +to have been born John." +</p> + +<p> +"How did you arrange it?" asked the other with +daring freedom, for a rodman does not enter conversation +on terms of equality with the chief engineer. +</p> + +<p> +"I got a little pocket dictionary down at the town +with a list of names and I went through that list with +the Smiths, dealing them out in order. Well, that will +do for your name," he said, making a memorandum in +the little book he pulled out of his flannel shirt pocket. +He turned to a man who had come up to the level. +"Smith," he said—"by the way this is Mr. Claude +Smith, Mr. Roberts—here's your new rodman. You +know your job, Roberts. Get to work." +</p> + +<p> +And that is how Bertram Meade, a few months after +the failure of the great bridge, once again entered the +ranks of engineers, beginning, as was necessary and +inevitable, very low down in the scale. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap20"></a></p> + +<h3> +XX +<br><br> +THE VALLEY OF DECISION +</h3> + +<p> +Much water had run under the bridges of the +world and incidentally over the wreck of the +International, since that bitter farewell +between Bertram Meade and Helen Illingworth over the +grave of the old engineer. Life had seemed to hold +absolutely nothing for Meade as he knelt by that low +mound and watched the woman walk slowly away with +many a backward glance, with many a pause, obviously +reluctant. He realized that the lifting of a hand would +have called her back. How hard it was for him to +remain quiet; and, finally, before she disappeared and +before she took her last look at him, to turn his back +resolutely as if to mark the termination of the situation. +</p> + +<p> +Father, fame, reputation, love, taken away at one +and the same moment! A weaker man might have sent +life to follow. In the troubled days after the fall of +the bridge, his father's death, the inquests, his +testimony and evidence freely given, and that parting, +something like despair had filled the young engineer's heart. +Life held nothing. He debated with himself whether it +would not be better to end it than to live it. He envied +his father his broken heart. Singularly enough, the +thing that made life of least value was the thing that +kept him from throwing it away—the woman. +</p> + +<p> +Striving to analyze the complex emotions that centered +about his losses he was forced to admit, although +it seemed a sign of weakness, that love of woman was +greater than love of fame, that in the balance one girl +outweighed bridge and father. That the romance was +ended was what made life insupportable. Yet the faint, +vague possibility that it might be resumed if he could +find some way to show his worthiness was what made +him cling to it. +</p> + +<p> +Of course he could have showed without much difficulty +and beyond peradventure at the inquest over +Abbott and the investigation into the cause of the +failure of the bridge—unfortunate but too obvious—that +the frightful and fatal error in the design was not his +and that he had protested against the accepted plan, +if only he had found the letter addressed to his father. +But that he would never do and the letter had not been +discovered anyway. He did not even regret the bold +falsehood he had uttered or the practical subornation +of perjury of which he had been guilty in drawing out +and accepting and emphasizing Shurtliff's testimony. +</p> + +<p> +There had been no inquest over his father's death. +The autopsy had showed clearly heart failure. He had +not been compelled to go on the witness stand and under +oath as to that. Although, if that had been demanded, +he must needs have gone through with it. Indeed so +prompt and public had been his avowals of responsibility +that he had not been seriously questioned thereon. He +had left nothing uncertain. There was nothing concealed. +</p> + +<p> +He had inherited a competence from his father. It +was indeed much more than he or anyone had expected. +He had realized enough ready money from the sale of +certain securities for his present needs. The remainder +he placed in Shurtliff's care and a few days after the +funeral, having settled everything possible, he took a +train for the West. +</p> + +<p> +The whole world was before him, and he was measurably +familiar with many portions of it. He could have +buried himself in out-of-the-way corners of far countries, +in strange continents. These possibilities did not +attract him. He wanted to get away from, out of touch +with, the life he had led. He wished to go to some place +where he could be practically alone, where he could have +time to recover his poise, to think things out, to plan +his future, to try to devise a means for rehabilitation, +if it were possible. He could do that just as well, +perhaps better, in America than in any place else. And +there was another reason that held him to his native +land. He would still tread the same soil, breathe the +same air, with the woman. He did not desire to put +seas between them. +</p> + +<p> +He swore to himself that the freedom he had offered +her, that he had indeed forced upon her unwilling and +rejecting it, should be no empty thing so far as he was +concerned. He would leave her absolutely untrammeled. +He would not write to her or communicate with her in +any way. He would not even seek to hear about her +and of course as she would not know whither he had +gone or where he was she could not communicate with +him. The silence that had fallen between them should +not be broken even forever unless and until—— Ah, +yes, he could not see any way to complete that "unless +and until" at first, but perhaps after a while he might. +</p> + +<p> +He knew exactly where he would go. Dick Winters, +another classmate and devoted friend at Cambridge, had +gone out West shortly after graduation. He had a big +cattle ranch miles from a railroad in a young southwestern +state. Winters, like the other member of the +youthful triumvirate, Rodney, was a bachelor. He +could be absolutely depended upon. He had often +begged Meade to visit him. The engineer would do it +now. He knew Winters would respect his moods, that +he would let him severely alone, that he could get on a +horse and ride into the hills and do what he pleased, +think out his thoughts undisturbed. +</p> + +<p> +To Winters, therefore, he had gone. He had an +idea that his future would be outside of engineering. +Indeed he had put all thought of his chosen profession +out of his mind and heart, at least so he fancied. Yet, +spending an idle forenoon in Chicago waiting for the +departure of the western train, he found himself +irresistibly drawn to the great steel-framed structures, the +sky-scrapers rising gaunt and rigid above the other +buildings of the city. He remembered that Chicago was +the home of the tall building, that in it the first great +constructions that were to make American engineering +famous had astonished the world, and he took deep +interest in comparing the older buildings with the newer. +Again the train was delayed and held up for half an +hour just as it reached the Mississippi River. He left +his seat in the dining-car, his dinner uneaten on the +table, to go out and inspect the bridge during the +half-hour that the "Limited" lay idle. The next day some +enormous irrigation works in western Nebraska so +engrossed his attention and aroused his interest that +in spite of himself he stopped over between trains to +see them. And these actions were typical. +</p> + +<p> +Yet after every one of these excursions back into his +own field, his conscience smote him. Was he never to +get away from this engineering? Was there nothing +else for him but brick and stone, steel and concrete, +designs and plans and undertaking and accomplishment in +the world? Because it was the thing that he must +abandon and put out of his mind, engineering seemed the +only thing he cared for. There would be no engineering +on that ranch on the slopes of the range. He could +settle the question there. +</p> + +<p> +Winters was glad to see him. He and Rodney and +Meade had been the warmest of friends. Of course +Meade could not tell Rodney the truth on account of his +newspaper connections, but he decided finally that he +could and would tell Winters under assurance of +absolute secrecy. For one thing the big cattleman had +bluntly refused to credit his friend's first statements; +and, when he at last heard the truth, he blamed him +roundly while he appreciated fully the nobleness of his +self-sacrifice. The clear-headed, practical Winters put +it this way: Meade was capable of doing splendid service +to humanity as an engineer and bade fair to be even +greater than his father, yet for the sake of the fame of +a dead man, to whom after all it would matter little, +he had thrown away that splendid opportunity! +</p> + +<p> +This was a new thought to Meade and a disturbing +one. Unfortunately, as even Winters was forced to +acknowledge, the suggestion came too late. The course +had been entered upon. It would be cowardly to try +to change it now. Indeed it would have been impossible +with the disappearance of the written protests and +notes. Even if Shurtliff had been willing, no one would +have believed a delayed retraction and explanation, and +Shurtliff would not have been willing Meade well knew. +Neither for that matter was Meade himself. He was +glad that the affair had been settled and would not +change it now even though Winters' rough-and-ready +presentation of the situation disquieted him. +</p> + +<p> +Winters, who saw how greatly overwrought and unstrung +his friend was, contented himself with the assertion. +He did not press the point or argue it with him. +He rested quietly confident that matters would right +themselves some way in the long run. He treated +Meade exactly right. He left him to his own devices. +He did not force his company upon him. Sometimes +the engineer would mount a horse—-and all at the ranch +were at his disposal—and would ride away into the +woods and mountains with a camping outfit. Sometimes +he would be gone for several days, coming back white +and haggard and exhausted but victor in some hard +battle fought out alone. +</p> + +<p> +Before Meade had left New York he had deposited a +sufficient sum of money with one of the leading florists +there and on every Saturday a box of the rarest and +most beautiful flowers was delivered namelessly to Helen +Illingworth. She knew the florist from whom they came +but never questioned him. She divined that they came +from Meade in the absence of any card. She did not +make the slightest effort, however, to confirm that +conclusion or find out how or why they were sent so +regularly. She just took the flowers to her heart, wept over +them, kissed them, and loved them; and every time they +came she held her head higher. +</p> + +<p> +One day there came to the ranch a letter to Winters +from Rodney, full of friendly chat and pleasant +reminiscence. +</p> + +<p> +"Meade has disappeared absolutely," wrote Rodney +in closing. "Even Miss Illingworth, to whom he was +reported engaged and upon whom I have called +occasionally, says she does not know his whereabouts, +although she confided to me, knowing my friendship for +him, that a New York florist sends her flowers every +week, which she knows could come only from him. Of +course you saw in the papers his connection with the +tragedy and failure of the International? I happened +to be the man to whom he made the admission of the +error in his calculations. Although his frank +statement was corroborated by that of the older Meade's +private secretary, I have never been able to believe it, +neither does Miss Illingworth. I know Bert, and so +does she. We can't accept even his own testimony. We +have been working together to establish the truth, but +with very faint prospects of success so far. There's +some tremendous mystery about it. I have thought that +maybe Meade might have come to you. If he has show +him this letter and beg him to tell us the truth at any +rate." +</p> + +<p> +Winters passed the letter over to Meade without +comment. The engineer read it with passionate eagerness. +He was hungry for any news of Helen Illingworth. +The flowers were being received. She had divined +whence they came. That was something. And Rodney +was calling upon her. A sharp pang of jealousy shot +through him at that, although he knew there was no +reason. Dear old Rodney! He could see his grave +face, his disapproving manner, his air of unbelief, as he +had taken down Meade's words in the office that tragic +day. +</p> + +<p> +Of course, Helen Illingworth was not a recluse as he +was. She mingled in society. She took up life with its +demands. She entered into its pleasures and fulfilled +its duties. He was jealous of everyone who might come +in contact with her, but he knew the names of none +except Rodney. +</p> + +<p> +And they were suspicious of his avowal! That was +balm to his soul. Of course Helen Illingworth was +suspicious, but why should Rodney doubt his assumption of +the blame? And they were working to establish his +innocence. The thought disquieted him lest they should +discover the truth in some way. And it gave him joy +also. They would work despite any remonstrance from +him. He thought of that protest to his father always +with uneasiness. If he could only have found it and +destroyed it himself he would have been happier. Could +it be in existence somewhere? Would it turn up? +Would they unearth it? Well, he had done his best for +his father, yet he was glad those two disbelieved and +were working for him. +</p> + +<p> +Meade had been the most brilliant, Winters the most +indifferent, Rodney the most persevering, of the trio +at college. He remembered that well. His first thought +was to forbid Rodney to do anything further, although +how far his friend would respect his wishes he could not +tell. Anyway, he did not have to decide that matter, +because he could not say a word to him. To have allowed +Winters to write would have betrayed his whereabouts. +He was living with Winters under an assumed name of +course. He had had his hair cut differently and had +grown a beard and mustache. He thought it would have +taken a keen eye indeed to have recognized him with +these changes. +</p> + +<p> +In the end he handed the letter back to Winters, only +charging him that if he wrote to Rodney he must not +betray the fact that Meade was with him. He had +plenty of time to think over the situation. He decided +finally that so long as he had been born an engineer and +trained and educated as an engineer and had worked as +an engineer that an engineer he would have to be until +the end of the chapter. He would go out and seek work, +not such work as his ability and experience and education +had entitled him to undertake, but under some assumed +name he would begin at the very beginning, at +the foot of the ladder as a rodman, if he could; and then +he would work on quietly, faithfully, obscurely, praying +for his chance. If it came he would strive to be equal +to the opportunity; if it did not at least he would be +engaged in honest work in an honest way. +</p> + +<p> +It was a very humble programme, not at all promising +or heroic or romantic, just a beginning. He would +work on and wait. They say that all things come to +him who waits. That is only half true. Some things +come to him who waits sometimes. That is more nearly +accurate. Well, he could think of no better plan. So +he bade Winters good-by, swearing him again to secrecy +until he should lift the ban against speech, and +rode away. When he got to the little village on the +Picket Wire below the dam he stopped a long time gazing +at the long bridge, or viaduct, of steel that was +replacing the old wooden trestle and carrying the railroad +from the hills to the eastward over the river. +</p> + +<p> +It was not such an undertaking as the lost International, +still it was interesting engineering construction. +It was work that would be intensely congenial, to +which he was drawn almost irresistibly, yet he managed +to hold himself aloof. The Martlet people were +building this steel bridge and they had just finished the +arch up under the mesa. A well-known construction +company was building the great earth dam across the +Picket Wire in the valley. +</p> + +<p> +Meade's engineering life had been spent mainly out +of the United States. He had never been connected +with the Martlet and its employees until he had been +associated with his father on the International. He +could have gone among them with little danger of +immediate discovery, since most of the men he had +known had gone down with the bridge, but he decided +not to do so. The work on the dam would be simpler +and he would have less opportunity to betray himself +and it would give him more chance to work up in a +plausible and reasonable way. Besides, if Colonel +Illingworth came on to inspect his bridge, as he would +probably do, Meade would have to leave before his arrival. +The dam would be safer. No one would ever think of +looking for him there. And no one would ever recognize +in the rough-bearded workman the clear-cut, smooth-faced +young engineer of other days. +</p> + +<p> +The dam was twenty miles up the valley. Yes, he +would be less apt to be observed working there than on +the bridge. Yet as he recalled that private car and that +it might come there, he realized that she might be on it. +His heart leaped even as it had leaped at the sight of +the viaduct then building, as it had quivered to the +familiar rat-tat-tat of the pneumatic riveters and the +clang and the clash of the structural steel. But what +was the use? He would not dare trust himself to look +at her even from a distance. No, it was the dam that +best suited his purpose, so he turned away from the +bridge and rode up the valley. There he was fortunate +in falling into a position, as has been set forth. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap21"></a></p> + +<h3> +XXI +<br><br> +MARSHALING THE EVIDENCE +</h3> + +<p> +For all her sweetness and light, Helen Illingworth +was dowered with intense energy and a powerful +will. What she began she finished, and she was +not deterred from beginning things by fears of +consequences. When she had so powerful an incentive as +the rehabilitation of her lover, the resumption of their +engagement, and their prospective marriage there was +nothing that could stop her. She supplemented a man's +analytical powers with a woman's intuition in her work. +</p> + +<p> +She was convinced that Meade had not told the truth +in that famous declaration in his father's office. She +respected him for his desire to shield his father's name +and fame even at the expense of his veracity, albeit she +would not have been a woman if she had not resented +the fact that in so doing he had sacrificed her happiness +as well as his own. Indeed, perhaps, she could not have +borne that separation and delay had it not been for the +consciousness that in any event her father's hatred of +the very name of Meade would have forced her to choose +between the two men, and womanlike, she shrank from +the necessity of such a decision. Time would be her ally. +She was the more content to wait, therefore. +</p> + +<p> +The question whether Meade, Junior, was the more +responsible or even responsible at all was more or less +academic to Illingworth. He would have had nothing +further to do with either of them if both were living, +and certainly not with the younger survivor. Really +from the point of view of wealth and station a marriage +between his daughter and Meade might have been considered +a condescension on her part, in her father's eyes +at least. Nothing could have justified such an alliance +from a worldly standpoint but Meade's continued and +unequivocal success. +</p> + +<p> +Rightly had the old man made the match dependent +upon the successful completion of the bridge. He +congratulated himself on that wise decision. He tried to +believe that if it had come to a final choice the daughter, +in spite of the fact that such is the habit of women +in the experience of life, would not have given up age +and her father for youth and her lover. Indeed she was +too genuinely devoted to her father to do that except +as a last resort. She cherished the hope first, that +Meade could re-establish himself—she had too sweeping +a confidence in his character and capacity to doubt +that—and second, that it could be shown that he had not +been responsible for the failure of the bridge. She +was more and more convinced that his assumption of +the blame had been dictated by the highest of motives +and instead of being a fit subject for censure and +condemnation he merited admiration and applause. She +hoped with her woman's wit to prove this eventually, +perhaps in spite of her lover, and to this end she +applied herself assiduously to solve the problem. +</p> + +<p> +To her, at her request, came Rodney. Now the +reporters had dealt very gently with Helen Illingworth. +They had made no announcement of the engagement or +of its breaking at her father's earnest request. There +was no necessity of bringing her into the bridge story, +although it would have added a dramatic touch to their +narratives. They had held a brief conference before +they separated and at Rodney's suggestion they had +agreed to leave her out of it. There was enough without +her. None of the yellow journals had suspected the +broken engagement since it had never been announced, +and the loyal young fellows kept their compact +religiously as they had cheerfully promised themselves +they would do. +</p> + +<p> +Not that Helen was in the least ashamed of the +engagement. Her inclination when she found it had not +been referred to in any of the reports or discussions of +the catastrophe had been to avow it. But upon reflection +she saw it would only have caused further talk, it +would have annoyed her father beyond expression, it +would not have helped Meade any, and it might hamper +her in her work. She realized that she had Rodney to +thank for this omission and after she had time to +collect herself she asked him to call upon her. He was +very glad to come. +</p> + +<p> +"I sent for you, Mr. Rodney, on account of Mr. Bertram +Meade," she began, after thanking him for his +courtesy toward her the day the older Meade died and +thereafter. +</p> + +<p> +"I divined as much, Miss Illingworth." +</p> + +<p> +"I want you to help me." +</p> + +<p> +"I shall be delighted to do so for three reasons." +</p> + +<p> +"And those are?" +</p> + +<p> +"First, for your own sake. I know, you will pardon +me, how deeply interested you are in Meade's rehabilitation. +Second, because I believe that he was not telling +the truth, that he is shielding his father. Third, +because he was my dearest friend at college. We were +classmates and his happiness and future are as dear to +me as my own." +</p> + +<p> +"Mr. Rodney," returned the woman, flushing a +little, "you know of course that we were engaged. You +heard me say it. I know that it was due to you that the +engagement was kept out of the papers. Personally, I +should have proclaimed it from the house-tops but for +my father. He considers it broken." +</p> + +<p> +"And you? Forgive me, Miss Illingworth!" +</p> + +<p> +"It is as binding upon me as it ever was, although +Mr. Meade gave me complete and entire release before +he went away." +</p> + +<p> +"I suppose so. That would be like him." +</p> + +<p> +"He said he would not link my life and its possibilities +with a wrecked career like his and, although I +told him frankly that nothing could be worse than +separation, he persisted and——" +</p> + +<p> +"I understand," said Rodney gravely. "Indeed as +a man of honor he could do no less." +</p> + +<p> +"You are all alike," said the woman a little bitterly. +"Your notions are supreme. You may break hearts, +you may ruin lives, you may sacrifice love and your best +friend so long as you preserve those notions of honor +intact." +</p> + +<p> +"And yet it is just because we preserve those ideas +of honor, which you call our notions, that your heart +breaks in parting. If we weren't honorable men you +wouldn't care for us at all." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, I suppose that's it. Well, I do care very +much, as you understand. I may as well be frank with +you. My father, of course, is bitterly antagonistic to +Mr. Meade. He won't even allow his name to be mentioned." +</p> + +<p> +"One can hardly blame him for that, Miss Illingworth. +The failure of the bridge seriously embarrassed +the Martlet Bridge Company, and it is a great handicap +for them to overcome in seeking any further contracts." +</p> + +<p> +"I know it was only my father's private fortune and +that of all the others, that kept the works from going +under." +</p> + +<p> +"Everybody knows that and honors your father and +his associates for their sacrifices." +</p> + +<p> +"But I did not summon you here to discuss the affairs +of the Martlet Bridge Company," said Helen, +"interesting though they may be, but to see if by working +together there was not some way by which we could +prove that Bertram Meade has assumed the blame to +save the honor and fame of his father." +</p> + +<p> +"You believe that, Miss Illingworth?" +</p> + +<p> +"I am sure of it." +</p> + +<p> +"So am I," said Rodney quickly. +</p> + +<p> +"Thank God," cried the girl a little hysterically, +surprised and almost swept off her feet by this prompt +avowal by one who, though young, was already an +authority in the literature of engineering. "Why do +you say that? What evidence have you?" +</p> + +<p> +"Unfortunately," answered Rodney, "I haven't any +tangible evidence whatever, but I know Bert Meade as +few people know him, Miss Illingworth, perhaps not even +you," he went on, in spite of her unspoken, but vigorous +protest at that last statement, as she shook her head +and smiled at him. "And there are several little +circumstances that make me feel that he could not have +been to blame. Have you any ground for your +conviction?" +</p> + +<p> +"Probably even less than you have and yet I, too, +know him. You were four years at college with him, +I was five minutes in his arms," she said boldly, "on the +bridge. He saved my life there. I have never told +anyone before." Rapidly she narrated the incident. +"This is what made him speak, but this is beside the +point and does not interest you," she concluded graphically. +</p> + +<p> +"On the contrary it interests me intensely. It adds +the least touch of romance to the tragedy. If I were +a writer of fiction instead of handling the dry details +of engineering operations, what an opportunity is here +presented!" +</p> + +<p> +"But you will respect my confidence?" +</p> + +<p> +"Absolutely, my dear young lady. You may speak +with perfect assurance." +</p> + +<p> +Helen Illingworth looked into the plain, homely, but +strong, reliable face of the man and dismissed any +thought of reserve from her mind. +</p> + +<p> +"Let us place," she began, "the little circumstances +upon which our intuitions are based, if intuitions are +ever based on anything tangible, together. Perhaps the +sum of them may yield something." +</p> + +<p> +"The suggestion is admirable," assented Rodney, +"and as I knew him first and longest I will begin. +Perhaps it would be well, too, to take down our evidence +and then transcribe the notes so that we may consider +them at leisure, getting an eye view as well as an ear +view of them." +</p> + +<p> +"That will be an admirable plan, but how?" asked +the girl eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +"I happen to have mastered shorthand and I can +take down my words and yours." +</p> + +<p> +He drew out a note-book, pad, and pencil from his +pocket and sat down at the nearest table. +</p> + +<p> +"Now, in the first place," he began, writing and +speaking at the same time—it was a little difficult at +first being so unusual, but as he spoke slowly and +thoughtfully he managed it—"point one is Meade's +absolutely unbounded devotion to his father. The old +man was not always right. His theories and propositions +were arguable and some were controverted. The +boy was as clear as a bell on most things, but I recall +that he would maintain his father's propositions +tenaciously, determinedly, long after everybody, perhaps +even the old man himself, had been convinced of their +fallacy. Engineering is in Meade's blood. He is the +fifth of his family to graduate at Harvard and three +of his forbears were engineers, his grandfather noted +and his father world-famous. He fairly idolized his +father. The affection between them was delightful. +The king could do no wrong. Meade was quick-tempered +and not very receptive to criticism, but he would +take the severest stricture from the old man without a +murmur." +</p> + +<p> +"Here we have," said the woman, who had listened +with strained attention, "an early devotion to a person +and an unbounded respect for his attainments." +</p> + +<p> +"Exactly." +</p> + +<p> +"Go on." +</p> + +<p> +"The next point is, Meade was inordinately proud of +his family reputation, especially in the engineering +field. Of the two of the line who were not engineers, one +was a soldier and a distinguished one, but his career had +little interest for Meade. I have heard him say that +there had been a steady, upward movement in his family, +that had reached its culmination in his father. He +hoped to be a good, useful engineer, but he never +dreamed of going any higher or even approaching the +altitude of the other man." +</p> + +<p> +"It was a sort of fetish with him, then, wasn't it?" +asked the woman as Rodney stopped again. +</p> + +<p> +"You have hit it exactly. His love for the man, his +admiration for the engineer, which sometimes blinded +him, and his pride in his father's career as typifying his +family, were unbounded." +</p> + +<p> +"You have established a motive for any sacrifice: +love, respect, pride!" +</p> + +<p> +"That's the way it presents itself to me, Miss +Illingworth. I know thoroughly the quixotic, impulsive, +self-sacrificing nature of the man. I know that he would +have done anything on earth to save his father, even at +the sacrifice of his own career, and since I have seen +you I can realize how powerful these motives must have +been." +</p> + +<p> +Rodney said this quite simply, as if it were a matter +of course, rather than a compliment, and bluntly as he +might have said it to a friend and comrade, and Helen +Illingworth understood and was grateful. +</p> + +<p> +"It has been a grief to me that I weighed so little +in comparison," she said simply. +</p> + +<p> +"I shouldn't put it that way exactly," observed +Rodney carefully. "You see even if it could be shown +that it was the old man's fault entirely the young one +would still have to share some of the blame." +</p> + +<p> +"You mean he should have foreseen it and pointed +it out?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes." +</p> + +<p> +"I think he did." +</p> + +<p> +"I think so, too, but if he did foresee it and point +it out, he should not have allowed the older man to +overawe him or force him to accept what he believed to +be structurally unsound. And Meade realized that he +was practically done for when he gave you up, unless he +wished you to share his disgrace, and in the face of every +conceivable opposition a woman would have to meet. I +don't know whether he reasoned it out exactly in this +way. I don't think he had time to argue the case, the +shock was so swift and sudden, but as soon as he did +see the situation he discovered that you were lost +anyway, except of the charity of your affection, which he +could not accept, and that he could save his father. +This may all be the wildest speculation, but this is the +way it presents itself to me." +</p> + +<p> +"And to me," said Helen, "but before we go any +further, let me say I should rather be his wife, shamed, +humiliated, heartbroken, blameworthy though he may +be, than enjoy any other fate or fortune." +</p> + +<p> +"If anyone did love Meade for himself that is the +kind of affection his qualities merit and would evoke in +the mind of a discerning woman." +</p> + +<p> +"Thank you. Will you go on, now?" +</p> + +<p> +"Of course you know that what we have said is not +evidence. It is all assumption, perhaps presumption." +</p> + +<p> +"It's as true as gospel," said the girl earnestly. +</p> + +<p> +"To you and to me, yes. Well," he continued, "I +remember that Meade and I were talking just before +he went to Burma three years ago about a new book by +a German named Schmidt-Chemnitz, in which certain +methods of calculations were proposed for the design of +lacings. They were empiric, of course, because there +haven't been enough experiments on big members like +those in the International from which to deduce the true +laws. You know it was the lacings of one of the +compression members of the cantilever that gave way." +</p> + +<p> +"Wait a minute," said Helen. +</p> + +<p> +She went to her desk, opened a drawer, extracted +therefrom a paper. +</p> + +<p> +"Look at this," she said. She put her finger on the +little sketch Abbott and Curtiss had discussed on the +observation platform of the private car. "These are +lacings, aren't they?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Rodney, studying the sketch with deep +interest. "Where did you get this?" +</p> + +<p> +"Presently," said Miss Illingworth. "Go on with +your account." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, Meade and I got into a hot discussion over +some of Schmidt-Chemnitz's formulas. I maintained +that they were wrong. He took the opposite view. He +was right. He was so interested in the matter that +after we separated he wrote me a letter about it, adding +some new arguments to re-enforce his contention. The +other day I made a careful search among my papers and +by happy chance I found the letter. I was half-convinced +by his reasoning then, although the matter was +dropped. I am altogether convinced now. His argument +is very clear. I have examined since then the plan +and sketches for that bridge. The calculations did not +agree with those of Schmidt-Chemnitz. His methods +were not used. Meade could not have forgotten the +matter. I am morally certain that he made a protest to +his father, probably in writing, then allowed himself to +be persuaded by his father's reasoning. As a matter +of fact, I suppose that Bertram Meade, Senior, was a +greater authority on steel bridge designing than even +Schmidt-Chemnitz. Well, sometimes, the smaller man +is right. We know now and Bertram Meade, Senior, +would admit it if he were alive, that Schmidt-Chemnitz +was right, and we can make a good guess that young +Meade did not let it pass without a protest." +</p> + +<p> +"Mr. Rodney, it's wonderful." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, that's not all. There was not a little bit of +hesitation in Meade's assumption of the blame, not a +person who heard it doubted it apparently. I have +sounded them all carefully, except myself." +</p> + +<p> +"And me." +</p> + +<p> +"It was a splendid piece of dramatic acting,—one +hates to call such a sacrifice by such a name—but that +is what it was." +</p> + +<p> +"My thought exactly," said the woman. "Is that all?" +</p> + +<p> +"Not yet. I was the first man to see the older +Meade except his son and Shurtliff." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, Shurtliff!" +</p> + +<p> +"We'll come to him presently. It was obvious that +the older Meade had been writing. I don't know whether +the others noticed it, but it is my business to take in +even inconsiderable details. The pen was still between +his fingers. His hand was constricted and the pen had +not dropped out, in fact I myself took it out and laid +it on the desk." +</p> + +<p> +"His last conscious act was to write something, +therefore?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, for confirmation I ascertained that there were +ink-stains on his fingers." +</p> + +<p> +"What did he write and to whom?" +</p> + +<p> +"I don't know. I can only guess." +</p> + +<p> +"What do you guess?" +</p> + +<p> +"The assumption of entire responsibility and the +exculpation of his son, probably to some paper." +</p> + +<p> +"From the same motives that prompted Bert?" +</p> + +<p> +"No, because it was true. But that is only an +assumption, although not altogether without further +evidence." +</p> + +<p> +"And what is that?" asked the woman eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +She had sat down opposite Rodney at the table and +was leaning toward him. Her color came and went, +her breathing was rapid and strained under the wild +beating of her heart. +</p> + +<p> +"The blotter on the desk. I examined it at my +leisure. It had been used some time. I went over it +with a magnifying glass. Meade, Senior, had evidently +written a letter. I found the words 'fault is mine.' I +have the blotter in my desk. The word 'fault' is +barely decipherable, 'is' can be made out with difficulty, +but 'mine' is quite plain. I am familiar with +the older Meade's handwriting, and though this is +weaker and feebler and more irregular than was his +custom—ordinarily he wrote a bold, free hand—this is +unmistakably his. Of course no one can say that he wrote +any letter. This is piling assumption upon assumption +and, furthermore, there is no evidence of any signature +having been written beneath it." +</p> + +<p> +"But there are signatures on the blotter?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, one in particular, very clear." +</p> + +<p> +"It might have been added later." +</p> + +<p> +"Of course." +</p> + +<p> +"Is that all?" +</p> + +<p> +"There is one more bit of evidence." +</p> + +<p> +"What's that?" +</p> + +<p> +"The sheet of paper on which the design computations +for the compression chord members appear +was not with the other plans and tracings of the +bridge." +</p> + +<p> +"How do you know?" +</p> + +<p> +"These plans were taken over by the Martlet Company +after Meade's death and Mr. Curtiss and I +examined them. We found that sheet missing." +</p> + +<p> +"It's wonderful!" cried the girl, her eyes shining. +"I was convinced before, but, if I had not been, you +would have persuaded me beyond a doubt." +</p> + +<p> +"I have persuaded myself, too," said Rodney. "But +there is not a single thing here that would justify any +publicity even if we were prepared to go against +Meade's obvious desire. As I say, it is all assumption. +No one could prove it." +</p> + +<p> +"You are wrong," said the girl. "One person can +prove it." +</p> + +<p> +"Who is that?" +</p> + +<p> +"Shurtliff." +</p> + +<p> +"I wondered if that would occur to you." +</p> + +<p> +"Of course. You think that Meade, Senior, wrote +a letter assuming the blame because it was his. I have +no doubt in the world now that Bertram Meade had +made his protest in writing. Perhaps he indorsed it +on the missing sheet," continued the woman, making +bold and brilliant guesses. "Or maybe he wrote a +letter that was attached to the sheet that we lack, and +Mr. Meade got it out of the safe and wrote his letter +and attached it with Bertram's protest to the missing +drawing and gave them to Shurtliff and told him to +take them to the papers. You know Shurtliff said that +Meade declared he would assume the blame and he told +the reporters so. Shurtliff has, or he knows who has, +the missing paper." +</p> + +<p> +"But what motive would the secretary have for +such concealment?" +</p> + +<p> +"He idolized the older Meade. Mr. Curtiss told me +about him. A failure himself when he was a young +man, Mr. Meade had faith in him and offered to promote +his engineering efforts, but the man preferred to +attach himself, personally, to Mr. Meade and so he +became his private secretary. By his own showing he had +been with the dead man on that afternoon. He has the +papers." +</p> + +<p> +The woman rose to her feet as she spoke with fine +conviction. +</p> + +<p> +"I believe you are right," said Rodney, leaning back +in his chair and staring at her through his glasses. "If +we can only make him speak——': +</p> + +<p> +"We can." +</p> + +<p> +"How?" +</p> + +<p> +"I don't know, but that shall be my task." +</p> + +<p> +"But where is he?" +</p> + +<p> +"Working for my father." +</p> + +<p> +"What do you mean?" +</p> + +<p> +"I mean that I suspected him from the first, and +as there was an opening for a private confidential man, +who understood engineering—a vacancy made by the +promotion of my father's private secretary—I +prevailed upon him to give the position to Shurtliff. +Father hates the name of Meade, but he worships efficiency +and he knows that Shurtliff is the very incarnation +of the particular kind of ability that he desires, so +he is with my father constantly and I have him always +under my eye. When we go away in the car, he goes +along." +</p> + +<p> +"What are you going to do?" +</p> + +<p> +"Win his confidence, his affection if I can, appeal to +him, and——" +</p> + +<p> +"By Jove," said Rodney, "I believe you can do it. +You can't drive that old man." +</p> + +<p> +"I know it," said the woman. +</p> + +<p> +"You haven't told him that you thought it was his +fault?" +</p> + +<p> +"No. Now, to return to that picture and that plan. +I can remember the day Bert saw it first." +</p> + +<p> +"When was it?" +</p> + +<p> +"The morning after the night I nearly fell off the +bridge." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes?" +</p> + +<p> +"It was on the table on the observation platform +where the men had left it. I had gone to the door to +tell the attendant that Mr. Meade would breakfast with +us; when I came back he was staring at it like one +possessed. We had some conversation about it. I +remember every word." She repeated it verbatim. "It +was not so much what he said, but the way he looked; +strained, one might say, alarmed. I puzzled over it a +good deal and as we had"—she stopped and smiled—"we +had other things to think of, I didn't dwell upon +it until afterward. Mr. Rodney, he knew that lacing +was weak. There was relief in his look and voice when +he found that Curtiss and Abbott were both satisfied. +If he knew it was weak, or if he thought it might be, +he is the kind of man who would have said so. If we +can find that missing sheet, if we can make Shurtliff +tell, we can establish his innocence beyond peradventure." +</p> + +<p> +"We certainly can and, if we do, it will be through you." +</p> + +<p> +"Don't forget your own part, Mr. Rodney." +</p> + +<p> +"I couldn't do anything with a man like Shurtliff. +You can. You can win his devotion, you can let him +see how much the reinstatement of Bert Meade in honor +again means to you. You can do it." +</p> + +<p> +"Meanwhile you will help me, won't you?" +</p> + +<p> +"In any way, in every way. Do you know where he +has gone?" +</p> + +<p> +"I haven't the slightest idea. He might be in Africa, +or South America, or out West, or up North. Do you +see those flowers?"—she pointed to a great bunch of +American Beauty roses, which had been forced for her +apparently, and which she had received on that very +day—"Dards, you know the Madison Avenue florist, +sends me a box of magnificent blossoms, roses, violets, +orchids, always different, every week. They speak to +me of him." +</p> + +<p> +"Have you ever tried to trace them?" +</p> + +<p> +"No. I know whence they come and that is all. We +will hear from him some day, somewhere, somehow. +Meanwhile, we will work, work, work!" +</p> + +<p> +"Miss Illingworth," said Rodney, rising, "I will +transcribe this conversation and send you a copy. We +will study it. Meanwhile if anything occurs to me I +will communicate with you." +</p> + +<p> +"And I with you." +</p> + +<p> +"And you will allow me to say before I go that since +I have had this conversation with you I do not see how +even love for his father or his family name would have +led Meade to do it." +</p> + +<p> +"Don't say anything against him," said Helen +Illingworth quickly. "He was mad with anxiety, shame, +regret. Whatever he did I love him just the same." +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap22"></a></p> + +<h3> +XXII +<br><br> +WORKING UP +</h3> + +<p> +The autumn went by as a dream. Winter, warm +and mild in that far southern clime, was at hand +before Meade realized it. An ordinary engineer +of half the ability of Bertram Meade so suddenly +reduced to the ranks would have chafed against the +position of subordination and would have resented the +humble duties with which he was charged. But Meade +was happy to be following, even in this extremely +modest way, the profession that he loved. And he did +his unimportant work with zeal and care. It is not +much to say, but he was the most efficient of the junior +engineering force on the dam. That compensated for +another not quite so admirable fact. He did not mingle +with the men. They thought him reserved and unfriendly +and but for his unfailing courtesy to everybody and his +obvious expertness he would perhaps have become +unpopular. Of course, many of the men were far beneath +him socially and intellectually, but there was a spirit of +democracy among the workers on the dam. Except for +the foreigners and others of the manual laborers, rank +and station were more or less laid aside after hours. +Even Vandeventer himself put on no airs. +</p> + +<p> +It was not because Meade was unsocial that he kept +to himself, not at all. From his own galvanized iron +quarters, he used to stare longingly at the men grouped +around the big camp fires, for the nights were growing +chill, smoking and laughing, exchanging experiences +and telling stories. Nothing would have pleased him +better than to have joined in and he could have told +stories and related experiences that would have been +unique even in that gay crowd of young adventurers. +But he did not dare. He feared to betray himself. +What he wanted above everything was to preserve his +incognito. It would be fatal to his chances of ever +working up to anything worth while if they found out +who he was. +</p> + +<p> +And he had a tremendous pride to sustain him. They +respected him now. As a matter of fact they put his +withdrawal of himself down to vagaries of temperament +or causes they could not imagine and they grew rather +to like him even as they left him alone. And a few +of the men of the humbler sort to whom he had been +kind on occasion and helpful, were stoutly devoted to +him. Little indications gave him the feeling that +Vandeventer had his eye on him and that if it were possible +he would get a chance. He was not moody or morose. +He was just afraid, afraid he would be found out, +questioned, pitied. So when the others gathered +together in jolly fellowship after working hours Meade, +perforce, wandered away alone. +</p> + +<p> +The idleness of an aimless life did not appeal to him +even in his off-duty periods. Doing nothing had no +attraction. He could not get relief that way. Even +rambling alone about the hills would not serve. So +quick and active a man, so vigorous and buoyant a +spirit, so strong a body and mind were not calculated +for aimless wandering. +</p> + +<p> +Meade was a very accomplished engineer indeed. +There was no branch of the art about which he did not +know a little, although hydraulics and structural steel +were the things that most appealed to him. He got relief +in the duality of his affections for these branches +of his profession. Neither one of them ever palled on +him because he did not work monotonously at either of +them. He had a natural instinct for topography, and +instead of purposelessly strolling about the country, +he made a careful inspection of the valley which was to +be converted into a huge reservoir by the dam. +</p> + +<p> +The dam itself was, perhaps, an eighth of a mile long +at the bottom and, as it touched the receding hill on +one side and the spur of Spanish Mesa on the other at +the top, it there exceeded that basic extent considerably, +perhaps twice. It was a huge mound of earth +with a clay core extending from side to side at the +narrowest part of the valley, near the south end of +Spanish Mesa and a few miles above Baldwin's Knob, +the highest but by no means the most picturesque hill +or mesa in the valley of the Picket Wire. When +completed the dam would be one hundred and twenty-five +feet high above the old river bed with a roadway twenty +feet broad on the top of it. +</p> + +<p> +The engineers had fortunately found a long flat +space of ground, like a meadow, just at the narrows +and the huge mound of earth they had built upon it +fell away in a long slope toward the lower valley. +Below the dam and on the low ground between the mesa +and Baldwin's Knob the camp, with its galvanized iron +shops, bunk houses, dining halls, kitchens, and officers' +quarters, had been erected. The configuration of the +ground was such that, although it was unusual to put +them there, convenience had rendered it desirable in +this case. +</p> + +<p> +The hills were covered with splendid pines, except +where they had been cut to pieces by the diggers and +teamsters to furnish the clay for the work. It was +intended to complete the dam before the early spring of +next year, which was, if any time in the country could +be so characterized, the rainy season. Of course, just +as soon as the dam had begun to rise, the flow of the +Picket Wire below it had been stopped, except when +an occasional freshet had been allowed to pass the +under-sluice. It was known that the run-off of the +river in the rainy season of some years was so small +as scarcely to fill the reservoir, and it had been decided +to store all the flow of the autumn and winter so that +even if the spring rainy season were deficient the +beginning of the next summer would find the reservoir +full and the new irrigation system could commence +operations successfully. +</p> + +<p> +Vandeventer, like the lost Abbott of the International, +was also a driver, who spared neither his men +nor himself. The work had proceeded with astonishing +rapidity, although this was partially accounted for by +the fact that the spill-way, which should have occupied +their attention, had as yet been only partially +excavated. Now, to those ignorant of engineering, an earth +dam may seem a temporary expedient, although most +of the great irrigation dams of the world are of that +character; and everybody knows that if the water should +rise high enough to overflow an earth dam it would not +last longer than it takes to describe its utter giving +way. A flood would sweep it out of the way at once. +</p> + +<p> +The device whereby possible floods are controlled and +such dangers averted, consists of a broad channel at one +side of the dam, and at such a distance below its crest +that if, through any mischance or natural happening, +such as the failure of the sluice gates, excessive rains, +cloud bursts, or floods, the height of the water is +increased until it promises to overflow the dam, this +opening will carry off the surplus harmlessly. This +channel, usually concreted, is called a spill-way. It is +almost always completely open, rarely being provided +with gates, and it works automatically. Just as soon as +the water rises high enough to be menacing, it flows +through the spill-way and is discharged into the valley +below the dam until the water level in the reservoir is +lowered and the danger of overflowing is ended. The +discharged water can do no harm, as there is never more +than the river, without the dam, would have sent down +anyway. An earth dam without a spill-way would +presage almost certain destruction to all who lived in +the valley below it. +</p> + +<p> +In the case of the Picket Wire dam, the spill-way had +to be cut and, in part, blasted out of the mountain +side—that is through the spur of the mesa, which reached +down from its high wall towards the narrows. There +had been a series of blunders and mishaps, which +included the explosion of a shipment of dynamite on the +railroad, with very disastrous consequences to +accompanying rock-crushers and mixers, and other machinery. +The spill-way had not been completed. Its opening +should have been about twelve feet below the level of +the dam. Vandeventer was not responsible of course. +The chief engineer had fumed and protested, but had +been directed by headquarters to go ahead with the +other work and tackle the spill-way later. There was, +indeed, little reason to hold up the building of that +particular dam because of the non-completion of the +spill-way. +</p> + +<p> +That was a country, so the most devoted inhabitants +freely admitted, in which it was always safe to bet that +it would not rain, no matter how threatening might be +the appearance of the sky; for in ninety-nine times +out of a hundred the negative would win the bet. Said +inhabitants did not say the hundredth time might +compensate for all the other failures. The weather was +like the little girl with the proverbial curl—when it +did rain there was no doubt in anybody's mind as to +the fact. Sometimes the fountains of the great deep, +which in Holy Scripture at least extended overhead, +would be broken open and the violence of the fall and +the quantity of it, and suddenness of it, would be such +that the Westerners would graphically call it a +"cloudburst," which, indeed, it seemed to be. +</p> + +<p> +Outside the rainy season cloudbursts were unheard +of, and even in that season, extremely rare. For the +valley of the Picket Wire and in the plain beneath, +carefully tabulated reports of the rainfall for years had +been considered by the engineers. They had chosen +the right season for the building of the dam, but +when its crest began to rise above the designed level +of the spill-way the delay in opening the channel gave +cause for some alarm. It is not the probable or certain +that is feared. An old version that, of <i>omne ignotum +pro magnifico</i>—it is only the unknown of which men are +afraid, or only the unknown is to be feared! Still there +was nothing Vandeventer could do but obey orders and +go ahead. The danger after all was trifling. Another +consequence of the waiting was that in his inability to +work on the spill-way, he had more hands to devote to +the dam and it rose the quicker. +</p> + +<p> +The shape of the country behind it was such that +when the Picket Wire flowed with sufficient volume to +fill it, a long lake going back through the valley, or +cañon, and twisting among the hills for some miles +would result. In other words the dam would make a +beautiful artificial sheet of water bordered on one side +by a high range of hills, on the other by the dam, and +on the third by the hills and the low hog-back above +Spanish Mesa, which separated the Picket Wire valley +from the Kicking Horse gorge up which the railroad +ran. +</p> + +<p> +Buried in his own thoughts, communing with himself, +considering ceaselessly his position, dreaming of +the woman he loved, planning a new career, Meade yet +explored every foot of the valley and ravine. He +climbed to the top of Spanish Mesa and from its height +the whole country clear up the valley to the main range +was visible to him. He could look down into the deep +ravine of the Kicking Horse, and note the marvelous +beauty and airiness of the arch bridge for all it so +solidly carried the heavy freight trains of the railway. +</p> + +<p> +He could see far up and around the crooked course +of the Picket Wire. The big grass-covered, but +otherwise bare and treeless hog-back, that ran from the +upper end of the stone island of the mesa was equally +visible to him. As it was the low side of the new +reservoir he descended to it and studied it carefully. +On another occasion, having said nothing to anyone +about his excursion, he took advantage of a half-holiday +to go out and inspect the hog-back and ascertain +its elevation with relation to the dam. Of course the +engineers who planned the great irrigation works had +done that, but he wanted to do it for himself. At one +place, where the distance between what might be called +the edge of the valley and the head of the ravine was +narrowest—indeed, he estimated after pacing it that +it measured not over twenty feet across—he discovered +that the rounded earth crest was slightly lower than the +intended level of the top of the dam. +</p> + +<p> +When he returned to the office, he found on examining +the construction drawings that an earth dike was +planned to run along the hog-back so that the top +level should be higher than that of the dam. This dike +would be only a hundred and fifty feet long and a few +feet high, and could be built in a few days' time. Work +on the main dam being more important, nothing had as +yet been done on the dike. +</p> + +<p> +Meade had been promoted toward the end of the fall +and in a rather unusual way. One of the transit men, a +young engineer, got a better job and left his +instrument. Vandeventer called Meade before him. +</p> + +<p> +"Roberts," he said, "there's a vacancy for a transit +man. You've done such good work so far and shown +such familiarity with field work, that I'd give it to you +if I had any idea that you know anything about +handling instruments." +</p> + +<p> +"I think I may be trusted with one, sir," answered +Meade, his eyes brightening. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, perhaps; but I have watched you in odd hours. +The young men around here are constantly practicing +with the transits. I've never seen you put a hand to +one. How about it?" +</p> + +<p> +"I'm not exactly a youngster, Mr. Vandeventer," +returned Meade, "and I really didn't think it necessary +to practice, but if you trust me with one I believe I +can manage it." +</p> + +<p> +Old Vandeventer leaned back in his chair in the office +and looked carelessly away from Meade to all +appearances. He clasped his hands back of his head and +seemed lost in thought. Suddenly he began humming a +little scrap of verse about another college which +Cambridge men sing with zest. +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "<i>I'm a physical wreck,<br> + From the grand old Tech',<br> + But a hell of an engineer!</i>"<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +He stopped abruptly, whirled about in his swing-chair, +and shot a quick glance at Meade. It was a +trap. And as he sprung it Vandeventer surprised the +ghost of a smile, repressed quickly but there, on Meade's +lips. The chief engineer was satisfied. Before this, +little things had betrayed a fellow alumnus or at least +a fellow student of the old Lawrence Scientific School. +Vandeventer was pleased at his adroitness. He did not, +however, refer to it. +</p> + +<p> +"There's a new transit in that box on the floor +there," he said, resuming his indifferent manner. "I've +had the case opened, but I haven't taken it out. Get +it, and we'll go outside and see what you can do +with it." +</p> + +<p> +Now a transit, for all it is used in rough field work, +is one of the most expensive and delicate of instruments. +It is capable of the most accurate adjustment, +and if it is to be of any real use, the refinement of +these adjustments must not be impaired in any degree +by unskilled and reckless packing. The boxes in which +the instruments are shipped are very carefully +constructed in accordance with the principles which +experience has shown to be necessary, and each one is +especially fitted to the particular instrument to be +contained therein. The box is a complicated thing and +the transit cannot be taken out or replaced except in +one way. With a knowledge of the combination, so to +speak, it is comparatively simple to take a transit from +the box; without that knowledge, which none but an +expert transitman, or the packer himself, can have, it +is rather difficult without running a risk of ruining +the instrument. +</p> + +<p> +This command was another of Vandeventer's tests +therefore. Meade knew this as well as his superior. In +spite of himself he would have to betray his familiarity. +Well, he had brought himself to the conclusion that +he could not continue his work without very soon +disclosing the fact that he had been an engineer. And in +case of the inevitable the sooner the better. So long +as he had to betray himself, he would have all the +advantages as well as the disadvantages. He unlocked the +door of the box, slid the instrument out quickly, +accurately, without a moment's hesitation, and rapidly +unscrewed the head from the slide-board, and screwed it +carefully on the tripod. Vandeventer's eyes sparkled. +</p> + +<p> +"Come outside," he said, leading the way to the side +of the hill, "and set it up there over the tack in that +stake and level it." +</p> + +<p> +Beginners have been known to take ten minutes to +get a transit set up, leveled, and centered. It is good +work if it is done inside of a minute, thirty seconds is +very fast. In forty-five seconds Meade reported, "all +ready, sir." He could have done it in less, but he was +a little out of practice he said to himself. +</p> + +<p> +"Look here," said Vandeventer, "you can't pull any +more bluff on me, Roberts; you're an engineer all +right." +</p> + +<p> +"I know something about the practical side of it, +sir," answered Meade, turning a little pale and wondering +how far Vandeventer would press his questions and +what he would learn. +</p> + +<p> +But the engineer was a man. +</p> + +<p> +"Practical, yes and theoretical too, I'll be bound, +but I don't seek to pry into your antecedents. It's +enough for me if you do good work for me here." +</p> + +<p> +"I'll do my best, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"Good, the instrument is yours." +</p> + +<p> +That was the first step and the next step came very +shortly after when, having further demonstrated his +capacity in other ways, Meade was given charge of the +work on the east end of the dam. +</p> + +<p> +"I don't care who he is," said Vandeventer to his +chief subordinate, "he knows what he's about and if +you watch him you'll see. He's keen on handling men. +The other section foremen will be hard put to keep up +with him. He keeps watch on himself. He's got some +secret he won't betray. He doesn't mingle with the +crowd, but every once in a while something slips out. +What he doesn't know about engineering nobody needs +to know, I'll wager." +</p> + +<p> +"How do you account for his being out here?" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, it's the old story, I suppose; he's come a cropper +somewhere—down and out and wants to begin again, +and can't do anything but this. It's not our business, +Stafford; he does good work for us and we're satisfied." +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap23"></a></p> + +<h3> +XXIII. +<br><br> +THE FORMER AND THE LATTER RAIN +</h3> + +<p> +The work on the dam was progressing splendidly. +Vandeventer, driving his men hard, shared in +all their furious efforts. He was not only their +leader, but their inspiration. He could safely work +them to the limit because by a process of elimination +during the work he had surrounded himself with a body +of able assistants, and by the same method his +teamsters and workmen, many of whom were foreigners, had +been culled from a greater number, until they had +become a small army of picked men, of which to be proud. +Among all these Meade stood very high. He still +occupied his comparatively humble position as +gang-foreman, but he had shown such capacity in the four +months he had been with Vandeventer, such a grasp of +things, such an ability to handle men, in one or two +instances when, with intention to try him, the resident +engineer had given him charge of some special work, +that Vandeventer unconsciously looked to him in any +emergency. He actually found himself consulting +Meade on occasion! +</p> + +<p> +He had accompanied the younger man on one of +those rambles which he had hitherto taken alone. He +had not broken down Meade's reserve, but he had won +his admiration and regard. Vandeventer was not unknown +in engineering circles. In earth work he was by +way of being an authority. His experience had been +varied and extensive. Meade's reserve and reticence +rather hurt the older engineer. He had invited +confidence and had even given his affection. He intimated +delicately that if the other were under a cloud +Vandeventer might be in a position to help him. +</p> + +<p> +It was fortunate for Meade's purpose of concealment, +for his incognito, that most of his engineering work +had been done abroad and that he had been out of touch +with American engineering for practically the whole of +his career. Vandeventer was a Harvard man too, and +that made it especially hard for Meade to keep from +betraying himself. As a matter of fact the younger +man actually longed to make a clean breast of it, but +he could not quite bring himself to do it, yet. That +might come later. +</p> + +<p> +Three months ought to see the completion of the dam +and the long canal, which was to carry the stored +water to the irrigation ditches below. Vandeventer +was already making plans for another big job, and he +had decided, in his own mind, that among the subordinates +whom he would take with him, the newcomer +should have the first chance. Vandeventer felt proud +and satisfied when he surveyed the work that had been +accomplished in the six months of labor. To be sure +the delay in the completion of the spill-way disquieted +him a little. +</p> + +<p> +The dam had reached the spill-way level a fortnight +before, and had now passed it. Indeed, on the fifth of +January, the dam builders were within five feet of the +top; that is, the crest of the dam was one hundred and +twenty feet above the level of the valley. They had +planned to run the spill-way around the eastern end of +the dam. That was the end near the spur of the mesa. +It was fairly soft rock on that side, except near where +the end of the dam joined the hillside it was covered +over with earth. Through this rock the channel would +be opened to such a depth that when the water rose too +high in the reservoir it would flow through this channel +around the dam, and discharge into the valley a safe +distance below the foot of the dam. This was the +spill-way, which had not yet been completely excavated +or blasted out on account of the delay in receiving the +rock drills and dynamite which had been ordered, as +has been explained. +</p> + +<p> +These supplies had finally arrived in December, and +by putting as many as possible to work on the spill-way +Vandeventer had succeeded in opening it for its entire +width to an average depth of about seven feet below the +intended top of the dam; that is, it was now about two +feet deeper than the actual crest of the dam, but it +still lacked five feet of its designed depth. +</p> + +<p> +The rainy season, an inspection of the records had +shown, was not due for a month and a half yet. That +would give him ample time to complete the dam and the +spill-way. Sometimes it did not rain from June until +the next March. In that country that was why +irrigation was needed. This year, however, there had been +some very unusual rains during the fall and the water +back of the dam was now ninety-eight feet deep, which +made it twenty-two feet below the level to which the +dam had risen and twenty feet below the spill-way. +This was much more water than anyone had dreamed +would be in the reservoir at that time, and was perhaps +more than should have been allowed. Still there was a +safety margin of twenty-two feet, which Vandeventer +was sure would be ample. The financial promoters of +the project were very anxious to have the reservoir full +when the irrigating season opened, and the engineer's +judgment had been influenced by their eagerness to get +it working. +</p> + +<p> +The broad sheet of water ran back into the valley for +many miles. In fact the dam had transformed the +country into a beautiful lake. Sometimes it rained in +the mountains when it did not rain down in the valley, +and there was a constant, if very small, rise in the +level. Vandeventer personally carefully gauged the +water every day. Naturally he had noted that it rose +gradually, but as the dam rose proportionately more +rapidly, he was not uneasy. Yet, as a good engineer, he +was watchful and largely because of the unfinished +spill-way he urged the men to the very limit. +</p> + +<p> +Those who could understand the situation seconded +him heartily and such was the contagion and the +enthusiasm of all hands as the job approached +completion that, although the men grumbled at being so +driven, they worked with a will. The weatherwise from +the town, who sometimes rode up to inspect the work, +assured Vandeventer that it could not possibly rain +before March, and the mere fact that so much water had +fallen, rendered it more improbable that any more +would come down. Yet nature has a way of doing +unexpected things and everybody knows that all +calculations which depend upon nature are empiric anyway. +To lay down an invariable natural law for the weather +is impossible because of the infinite variety of +permutations and combinations of which nature is capable, +especially when it comes to weather manifestations in what +are known as the "arid regions." +</p> + +<p> +Whatever be the case, at three on the afternoon of +January sixth it suddenly began to rain hard without +warning and with no premonition on the part of anybody. +It was not one of those terrible downpours +referred to, which are popularly and graphically, if +incorrectly, known as cloudbursts, but it was an +excessively hard, steady rain. The heavens over the range +were black with clouds and so far as anyone at the dam +could see, it was raining from the crest of the mountains +down. There were some anxious discussions in the +dining-room of the resident engineer and his American +assistants. +</p> + +<p> +At four o'clock it was decided to open the under-sluice +gate about halfway, but when this was done the +volume of water it was capable of discharging was too +small to help very much, and on opening it to its fullest +extent the velocity of the water rushing through was +so great that the river bed was rapidly scoured out. +For fear of undermining the toe of the dam it was +necessary partially to close the sluice once more. +</p> + +<p> +The water was rising, first at the rate of three or +four inches in an hour, then half a foot, and finally +nearly a foot. By six o'clock that night it had risen +two feet. It was still raining hard at that hour, +although not quite so furiously as it had been. There +were no signs of a break when night drew on, but it was +practically inconceivable that it could rain all night, +and rough calculations convinced them that even if it +did rain until morning at the present rate there would +still be a margin of safety of perhaps fourteen or fifteen +feet at dawn, that is to say the top of the dam would +still be fourteen or fifteen feet above the water level. +</p> + +<p> +Of course if the spill-way had been completed it +would not have been of so much importance if it had +risen further, because before it grew dangerous it would +have been relieved by the outflow through that channel. +Well, although the situation required watchfulness and +was somewhat alarming it was not desperate. The men +were advised to put in all the time in their bunks so as +to be good and ready for the hard battle which might +come in the morning, and as they were all tired out with +their day's work the little group soon broke up and +each man went to his quarters. +</p> + +<p> +Vandeventer, however, could not sleep. The rain +kept up steadily all night. It thundered on the +galvanized roofs of the houses with a roar of sound which +he would not have minded if he had been used to it and +gradually seemed to increase in intensity. The resident +engineer finally got up and dressed himself, and +protected by high rubber boots and a cowboy slicker and +a sou'wester, he left his quarters and went out to inspect +the dam. He carried a lantern of course, for it was +pitch dark and, if possible, the rain dropping from the +black sky made it more difficult to see. +</p> + +<p> +He was surprised when he got to the dam to see on +the other side another lantern. Someone else was +abroad. For what purpose? There was no reason for +Vandeventer to suspect anyone of evil intent. But by +this time the situation had rather got on his nerves, +what with the rain, his sleepless night, the unopened +spill-way, and the possibilities of the situation. +Closing the slide of his own lantern to prevent observation +and being on familiar ground he went straight toward +the other side. The noise of the rain subdued any +sound that he made and he was able to come quite close +to the other light without being noticed. +</p> + +<p> +The lantern was standing on the roadway on top of +the dam. A man was kneeling beyond it, his figure seen +dimly in the faint light of the lantern. He was staring +intently down the front of the dam at the water. The +lantern was near the edge and it faintly illuminated +the black rain-lashed surface below. Vandeventer +realized with a shock of horror how much more rapid the +rise had been. A quick estimate convinced him that the +level of the water was now within eight or nine feet of +the dam—and it was still raining! +</p> + +<p> +The face of the kneeling man was hidden by a sou'wester +and he had on a heavy black rubber raincoat. +Vandeventer reached over and touched him on the shoulder. +</p> + +<p> +"What are you doing here?" he asked. +</p> + +<p> +The kneeling man sprang up with an exclamation. +It was Meade. The relief in Vandeventer's mind was +great at the recognition. +</p> + +<p> +"I just came out to look at the water. I couldn't +sleep with all that pounding on the iron roof of the +quarters, so I dressed and came out." +</p> + +<p> +Vandeventer opened the slide of his own lantern and +threw the light on the reservoir. +</p> + +<p> +"It's risen eight or ten feet since we saw it." +</p> + +<p> +"At least that," said Meade. +</p> + +<p> +"I judge it's about nine feet down to the water." +</p> + +<p> +"Not an inch more than that." +</p> + +<p> +"And with this rain— +</p> + +<p> +"It's not coming down so hard as it was when I first +came out here," said Meade. "I think you can see it +slackening yourself." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said the resident engineer, listening a moment, +"I believe it is. If it stops now," he continued +thoughtfully, "we ought to be safe." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, I think so," answered Meade. +</p> + +<p> +In the night alone, together in that crisis in their +fortunes, the two men were interchanging thoughts and +ideas on terms of perfect equality. It did not occur to +Vandeventer to question why, and that they were doing +so aroused no surprise in the mind of Meade. +</p> + +<p> +"Of course," continued Meade, "even if it does stop +raining we'll continue to get a lot of runoff from the +watershed for some time." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said the resident engineer, "that of course, +but if the rain stops everywhere we can scarcely have +a rise of more than five or six feet and that would still +be a little below the spill-way." +</p> + +<p> +"It's stopping here now," pointed out Meade and, +indeed, the force of the downpour was greatly diminished. +</p> + +<p> +The two stood watching the dam and the black lake +beyond it in silence for a few moments until the rain +practically ceased. The air was misty and heavy with +moisture, but the rain was certainly over for the time +at any rate. +</p> + +<p> +"Thank God," said the resident engineer in great +relief. "Now if it has stopped everywhere we'll be all +right." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Meade, "and I'm inclined to think it +has stopped everywhere. Whoever thought it would +rain in January here? There hasn't a drop, to speak +of, fallen in January for twenty years, or since there +have been any records. Why in heaven's name it had to +come now I don't see." +</p> + +<p> +"Does the water seem to you to be rising?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," answered Meade, after a careful survey, "but +much more slowly." +</p> + +<p> +"Look here, Roberts," said Vandeventer suddenly, +"you know you're a first-class engineer." +</p> + +<p> +Meade shook his head. +</p> + +<p> +"You can't fool me," said the older man. "I've +watched you. You know more about the game than +anybody here except myself. You don't choose to confide +in me, although I like you, and I am in a position +to help you." +</p> + +<p> +"I appreciate what you say, Mr. Vandeventer," +returned the other, "there is no one to whom I should +rather tell the whole story than to you, but I can't, +not yet." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, keep your own counsel, but if you ever want +a friend count on me; meanwhile as a man of experience +and ability what would you do?" +</p> + +<p> +"Get out the men and build up a temporary dam on +the top of the roadway here, to turn the flow over to the +east bank and make the spill-way do more work." +</p> + +<p> +"But the rain has stopped." +</p> + +<p> +"And in all probability it will stay stopped, still you +never can tell. That it rained at all is contrary to the +universal expectation and observation, but once it has +done so it may do so again, however unlikely. A few +more hours of rain like that we've had and the whole +thing would go. If the water were as high as the top +there'd only be two feet of head in the uncompleted +spill-way and that wouldn't be enough to discharge it +at the rate it's been coming in." +</p> + +<p> +"Of course," said Vandeventer thoughtfully. "And +if the dam goes," he added, "there are ten miles of back +water up there and millions of cubic yards impounded, +which would sweep down the valley. There wouldn't be +a thing left of the camp, the town, the new railroad +bridge, or anything else." +</p> + +<p> +"Coming on top of the International, the loss of +this big and expensive viaduct would about finish the +Martlet Company," said Meade thoughtlessly. +</p> + +<p> +Vandeventer looked at him sharply. An idea suddenly +came to him. Meade had turned away his head as he +realized his slip, so he did not observe the light in +Vandeventer's eyes. However, the resident engineer was a +good sort. +</p> + +<p> +"You are right," he said quickly. "I hate to call +out the men, but we've got a little chance now the rain +has stopped, and we can work to advantage in spite of +all this awful mud"—he lifted his foot up and +disclosed it caked and clogged with masses. "I'll take +charge in the center here and Stafford on the left, and +I'm going to give you charge of the east end of the dam +over by the spill-way. If only those drills had been +here six weeks ago." +</p> + +<p> +"We might set the men to work on that rock now," +said Meade. +</p> + +<p> +"It would be useless. There's too much of it. No, +if we're going to save the dam we've got to build it up +and try to keep ahead of the waters if they rise any +more. The higher we can build it, the greater will be +the head on the spill-way, and the more will be +discharged. I'll turn the men out at once." +</p> + +<p> +"But what are you going to do?" +</p> + +<p> +"I'm going to palisade the top of the dam. There's +plenty of timber already cut down and we will cut a lot +of young pines and build a palisaded wall of timber +across the top three or four feet back from the edge. +Well banked on the down-stream side it may hold." +</p> + +<p> +"It might be worth while to line that palisade with +galvanized iron sheets from the houses," said Meade. +</p> + +<p> +"A good idea," said Vandeventer, "and we'll pile +what underbrush and small stuff we have in front of +the palisade and heap what rocks we can find on top +of that, and we'll bank it up on the other side with +earth. It's a poor dependence, but it will hold for a +while anyway and every moment of time may be +precious." +</p> + +<p> +"How about sand bags, sir?" +</p> + +<p> +"We've got a few hundred cement bags, but not +enough. I wish we had a few thousand; however, we +will fill what we have and if the water rises and begins to +trickle over the top and through the palisade we'll jam +those down at the danger points. Can you suggest +anything more?" +</p> + +<p> +"Nothing." +</p> + +<p> +"Good. We'll turn out the men. They've had six +hours' sleep anyway." +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap24"></a></p> + +<h3> +XXIV +<br><br> +THE BATTLE +</h3> + +<p> +It was now three o'clock in the morning. In about +half an hour the men, naturally grumbling and +protesting at being deprived of any of their sleep, +were out and at work. Lanterns were lighted everywhere. +The rain had fortunately not resumed, and the +air was soon filled with noise and confusion. Men with +axes were busy on the hillside cutting the young pines. +Horses, which would have protested as much as the +men had they been able, were hitched to the dump +wagons, the steam shovel began tearing away the +hillside. Some of the men were detailed to knock down +some of the galvanized iron houses and the battering +of the hammers on the metal added to the din. +</p> + +<p> +Under Vandeventer's personal direction a row of +stakes was driven into the top of the dam about three +feet from the front of it. He had intended to put the +stakes a foot apart, but he decided that in the +emergency he would not have time for so close a palisade, +and therefore they were placed about two feet from +one another. There were only about one hundred and +fifty men working on the dam, and there was a limit +even to what the hardiest and most desperate worker +could do. +</p> + +<p> +Big sheets of overlapping galvanized iron were +nailed roughly to the fronts of the firmly bedded stakes +and the small branches and brushwood were thrown +down before it. There were a great many small +bowlders and big stones which had accumulated during +the excavations and these were carried out on the dam +in the wagons and thrown down on the brushwood so +as to bind the improvised mat of branches into a sort +of revetment; spare timbers, broken wagon beds, old +wheels, joists of dismembered houses were driven into +the earth to serve as braces behind the palisade; but +the main support of this wooden wall, with its skirmish +line of frail brushwood, was a bank of earth which +was piled up behind it, on which every man, even the +chiefs themselves, who could be spared from other +tasks labored with breathless energy. The water was +still rising, although the rain had stopped; the natural +drainage would cause that, but the rise was slower. +</p> + +<p> +At dawn Vandeventer personally carefully measured +the depth of the water and gauged it again. It was a +scant six and a half feet below the top of the dam. At +daylight the palisade at which they had worked so +hard in the darkness showed its flimsy front to all. It +was a desperate expedient. That, the least intelligent +workman could see. If the water rose above the top +of the dam it was gravely questionable whether the +palisade would hold it at all, yet there was no other +way of increasing the depth of the spill-way enough to +discharge the flood volume. +</p> + +<p> +Working as hard as they could, they had barely succeeded +in raising the earth bank back of it a foot high. +They kept at it unremittingly, although it did not +seem to be of much use. Vandeventer, Stafford and +Meade gathered together and scanned the sky, seeking +to discern the signs of the time, the purpose of the +heavens. It was clearer in the east. The clouds to the +northwestward were in violent action apparently. +Lightning flashed through them and over the great +range itself; low muttered peals of thunder came down +from the peaks lost to sight in the blackness overhead. +They observed all this carefully and Vandeventer +turned away, shaking his head. +</p> + +<p> +"I don't know," he began—the three of them were +over on the east side the better to see up the +valley—"it looks pretty bad, doesn't it?" +</p> + +<p> +"It does," answered Meade, while Stafford nodded +his head. +</p> + +<p> +"And, by the way, Stafford, have you notified the +town and the bridge people of the danger and bid them +prepare for it?" +</p> + +<p> +"I tried to telephone them awhile ago, but the +connection has been broken; the storm has played havoc +with the line probably," answered the assistant engineer. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, what did you do, then?" asked Vandeventer +a little imperatively. +</p> + +<p> +"I sent a man down on horseback in a hurry to warn +them that if it rains again the dam might go, and if +it did it would go with a rush; that the water was now +only six feet below the level and that they had better +get up on the hills. Of course, last night's rain must +have made the road almost impassable, but he ought to +get there by nine o'clock. I told him to tell the Martlet +people to take whatever steps they could devise to hold +their viaduct and their machinery," answered Stafford, +as he turned and walked toward his own part of +the dam. +</p> + +<p> +"Good," exclaimed Vandeventer. "There's nothing +left for us to do but keep on." +</p> + +<p> +The resident engineer looked white and haggard. +Although it was cold and raw in the wet air he wiped +the sweat from his forehead. +</p> + +<p> +"The men are doing splendidly, sir," said Meade. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Vandeventer, "many of them have their +wives and children back in the town. Some of the +Italians have bought land on the prairie and are going +to settle here. They're fighting for everything they've +got on earth. What do you think of the chances of this +palisade of ours?" +</p> + +<p> +Meade shook his head. +</p> + +<p> +"You want a frank opinion?" +</p> + +<p> +"Of course. What else?" +</p> + +<p> +"It wouldn't hold an hour." +</p> + +<p> +"That's right, and yet it's all we can do." +</p> + +<p> +"That hour might save the dam, though." +</p> + +<p> +"Doubtful," said Vandeventer gloomily. +</p> + +<p> +"It's all we can do, as you say, sir, but if the water +rises more than seven or eight feet——" +</p> + +<p> +"Say it," said Vandeventer. +</p> + +<p> +"The dam would go like a house of cards." +</p> + +<p> +"Exactly. And look at that cloudbank over there in +the northwest. It's spreading." +</p> + +<p> +"What wind there is," said Meade, moistening his +finger and holding it up to feel the direction, "is +blowing the opposite way down here, but you can't tell what +is happening up there. Well, all we can do is to fight +on." +</p> + +<p> +And fight they did. It was almost at first sight like +the hand of man against the hand of God. There was +no more room for science, no more room for engineering +expedient. It was chop and hew, break and pound, +dig and drive, carry and pile. Throwing off his coat, +Vandeventer seized a spade and began to work like any +other laborer, and the rest of the higher men followed +his example. +</p> + +<p> +At six o'clock the blackness hanging in the northwest +began to turn their way. It was coming down the +mountain. It was headed for the valley. Vandeventer +saw it, every teamster, every common laborer saw it. It +was coming. Unless heaven itself interfered there would +be more rain. They had worked desperately before, +but now they applied themselves to their tasks with a +kind of wild fury. A sort of insanity took possession +of them. They would not be beaten. They cried, at +first shrilly and then hoarsely and raucously, +encouraging words and phrases from one to another; terse, +vivid, profane, desperate. They stood there and they +heaved and dug and piled and hammered and +hurled and drove fiercely. It was a battle madness +that came into them. They saw red like the +berserker of old. Yes, it was not unlike a battle +in other ways, for with the rush of the northwest +storm came roaring mighty thunder and vivid +and terrifying lightning. It was as if great darts +of light literally were hurled by some gigantic hand +behind the black screen of sweeping cloud down upon +the granite mountains. They saw splinters of fire +where the thunderbolts struck. The pealing of thunder +was appalling. +</p> + +<p> +Their frail palisade backing was not half completed. +It must be raining somewhere, for the water was still +slowly rising. It was five and a half feet now from the +crest. It was hopeless if another rain fell, and the +rain was coming. There was an added chill in the still +air of the valley as the storm drove down upon them. +A few of the fainter hearts flung down pick and shovel +and axe and stood craven. Oaths, curses, blows even, +from those of the braver sort shamed them into work +again. These brave hearts and true might be swept +away with the dam if it gave way, but they would not +give up, and no man working with them should flee his +task or shirk his duty. By the Living God, whose sport +and playthings they seemed to be, they swore it; and +so weak and strong, bold and timid labored on—desperate, +resolved, god-like in their courage and persistence. +</p> + +<p> +The clouds were moving swiftly now. To the east it +had been clear, but now it was also black, and then with +a roar greater even than a thousand thunderclaps the +wind tore down the mountains, through the narrow +cañons, into the valleys, shrieking in the pines, and fell +upon them and hurled them down and brushed them +back. And after the wind, the rain. A drop or two +struck Vandeventer's cheek; another, another, and then +the flood. He lifted his head and stared and shook his +fist at the sky and turned to the human termites he +commanded. +</p> + +<p> +"Carry on, carry on, boys," he cried, shrieking to +be heard above the thunder peals, "we'll beat it yet." +</p> + +<p> +A cheer rose about him and was caught up and ran +along the top of the great dam. The half-maniacal +yell was such a cry as men might give vent to in the +heat of battle, the excitement of wild charge, and then +they fell to it again. The more ignorant, unaware of +the feebleness of the palisade, the more knowing +indifferent to it, seeing only the job, alike realized only +their duty to fight on, to answer the appeal to their +manhood, to refuse to admit defeat even when life +trembled in the balance. +</p> + +<p> +Yes, to use the ancient simile again, the fountains of +the great deep were broken open. What had befallen +them before was nothing to this. The hard rain of the +night seemed trifling compared to this avalanche of +water. This was a cloudburst indeed. And to make it +worse, to make their task harder, to render their efforts +useless, the high wind roaring down the valley piled +the water up and drove it in thunderous assaulting +waves against the great mound of earth on which the +men struggled and labored frantically. Vandeventer, +shovel in hand—he did not dare to throw it down, lest +his action be misconstrued,—went from gang to gang, +from man to man, talking to them, appealing to them, +pointing out weaknesses here and there, inspiring them, +holding them up as a man might hold a stricken line +against the onslaught of a victorious and overwhelming +force. And against wind and rain in that thick +darkness, blinded by the flashing lightning, stunned by +the pealing thunder, with zeal superhuman they toiled +on and on and on. +</p> + +<p> +Back and forth went the chief, showing himself a +leader of leaders, and wherever he stopped the fury +and desperation of the effort to stem the tide increased. +When he came plodding along the muddy roadway to +the part committed to Meade he did not find the +engineer. +</p> + +<p> +"Where's Roberts?" he yelled above the noise of the +storm. +</p> + +<p> +"He and two men have gone, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"Gone?" cried Vandeventer, cut to the heart at +what he thought was a desertion. "Well," he shouted, +realizing there was nothing he could do then and that +he had neither breath nor time to waste, "there's more +need for the rest of us to take their places." +</p> + +<p> +He drew a man or two from the other gangs to re-enforce +this danger point and himself directed their work. +</p> + +<p> +Now it takes time for water to rise five feet, even in +a cloudburst or a succession of them. The rain +constantly seemed to increase as the wind drove it on. +Vandeventer knew that the dam was doomed, that the +sluice and the half-finished spill-way combined could +discharge only a small part of the flow, but he knew +that he would have two hours at least to work before +the water could pass the crest, undermine, and batter +down the palisade and begin to trickle over. Just as +soon as it did roll over the top, unless they could stop +it, the whole thing was gone. For those two hours the +supermen labored unremittingly in the downpour with +a persistent and heroic courage that should have been +recorded in song and story, but which was not. It was +remembered after a while by none, save a few. To the +many it was only "all in the day's work"! +</p> + +<p> +The under sluice in the side of the dam which would +later serve as head gate for the canal had been intended +to pass the smaller floods which might occur during the +construction and had been open since the rain began. +It carried off a great volume of water, but hopelessly +little in comparison with the flood. Foot by foot in the +torrential downpour the water rose. At half after +eight it reached the level of the spill-way and +commenced to rush through in ever increasing volume, but +the flow into the reservoir was far greater than the +spill-way's capacity. +</p> + +<p> +Still the sight of the rushing water encouraged the +men. Every one of them felt that if the palisade held +the discharge would be increased enough to stop the +rise, but at present the effect was small. By nine +o'clock it was within a foot of the top. They began to +measure its rise by inches. Although the dam had been +carefully kept level as it was built, the trample of horses +and men, the present digging and palisading and revetting +had caused little depressions. Now the water rose +to the level. Here and there it began to trickle over! +</p> + +<p> +The rain coming down from the mountain tops was +as cold as ice, yet the men were in a fever of excitement. +They had got their second wind. They were too +enthused, too desperate, to feel their weariness. They +had not worked before as they did then. It was the +last possible nervous outburst with most of them. They +could keep it up a little longer—till they dropped +dead. As the mad thoroughbred falls in his stride in +the track, pushed beyond his power of endurance, as +even the common cart horse can be made to go until +he drops, so these men, white, haggard, nervous, +drawn-faced, sweat mingling with the rain on their sodden +bodies, would go till they broke. They had not quite +reached that point yet. +</p> + +<p> +There were some five hundred heavy cement bags +which had been filled with sand and piled up on the +roadway at convenient points. As a forlorn hope, as +a last try, Vandeventer called all the diggers and +ditchers, and hewers and drivers, and bade them tackle +the sand bags. The timber wall that rose to four or +five feet was now packed to a height of three with an +unequal wall of earth. +</p> + +<p> +The waves were beginning to roll against the +rampart, although their force as yet was broken by the +brushwood. Vandeventer jumped up on the palisade +near the center. There were some large logs there +where he could stand and whence he could get as clear +a view of the whole top of the dam as was possible +through the driving rain. +</p> + +<p> +"There," shouted the engineer, pointing to a red +trickle—it seemed to him like blood, taking its hideous +hue from the red clay of the banks—where the water +had found a low spot and was washing across the top +and trickling through the new wall and down on the +other side. Even as he pointed the trickle became a +stream and the stream bade fair to be a flood. Men +ran and dropped sand bags over in front of the palisade +right where the leak had occurred. Other men heaped +up the earth behind the wall, seeking to smother it and +stop it. The water checked there, they were forced to +do the same thing at another place. Desperately they +dropped their sand bags, sturdily they plied their +shovels in the mud, scrambling and yelling they ran +from leak to leak. They lifted the heavy bags of sand +as if they had been loaves of bread and jammed them +down. They swung pick and shovel like toys, although +the rain made all the earth sticky mud and the work +all the harder. The water was clear over the top of +the dam now and streaming through the revetment of +brush and surging against the palisade. Where it did +not let the water through, the line of stakes was +beginning to bend backward. +</p> + +<p> +The men who had expended their sand bags and +could get no more in one final effort ran to the palisade, +dug their heels madly in the wet, slimy earth and put +their shoulders against the bending stakes as if to hold +them up by main strength. Thin streams were flowing +here and there, now unheeded. Checked and held in +one spot, the water broke through at another. The +spill-way could not control the rise. +</p> + +<p> +"She's gone, she's gone. My God!" gasped Vandeventer +under his breath. He had fought a good fight. +He could do no more. There were no more bags of +sand. Save for the men straining at the wall here and +there and everywhere, there was left nothing but to +stand and wait, having done all. As one man saw +another the whole hundred and fifty caught the contagion +and threw themselves against the palisade, wet and +chilled from the rain, but yet madly, recklessly, +Americans and foreigners alike. They would hold it by main +strength for another minute, they swore, oblivious to +the fact that just as soon as it went it would go with +a rush. +</p> + +<p> +The stockade would be swept away first and they +would go with it. What of that? The men back of it +matched their brawny arms against rain and wind, +the powers of man against the powers of God, but not +mockingly. It is perhaps doubtful if they realized what +they did. It was instinct, habit, blind desperation +now. If the flimsy wall failed under the terrific water +pressure they would be hurled beneath it, swept down +the slope of the dam, buried in the débris as it was +swept away, caught up if they by any chance survived +so far, and hurled broken and battered down the +valley in the terrible flood that would ensue. What did +they know about that, or knowing, what did they care, +as they strained at the wavering timber wall? And +still they held as the rain poured down on them, +soaking through their soggy clothes, the colder on their +exhausted bodies for the keen wind that blew across +them. +</p> + +<p> +Well, they had done everything they could. Vandeventer +jumped down and pressed himself against the +nearest timber with the men and waited, silent. He had +never sustained such a pressure in all his life. Like +Atlas, he felt as if he were holding up a world. And +the mocking thing about it all was his feeling, nay his +realization, that he was not really holding anything, +that if the palisades failed, his pressure, his resistance +and that of all the other men amounted to nothing. +Yet he held on and they, too—demi-gods! +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap25"></a></p> + +<h2> +IV +<br><br> +SPILL-WAY +</h2> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="capcenter"> +<a id="img-258"></a> +<br> +<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-258.jpg" alt="(diagram of reservoir and surrounding terrain)"> +<br> +(diagram of reservoir and surrounding terrain) +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<h3> +XXV +<br><br> +THE ANCIENT ART OF FASCINATION +</h3> + +<p> +And much of the last wild hurricane of work +took place under the observation of a woman! +</p> + +<p> +From the top of the big mesa there was a +clear view of the new reservoir, from the dam on one +side far back into the hills on the other. In spite of +the tremendous downpour and the fierce gale Helen +Illingworth stood exposed to both attacks, and, indeed, +indifferent to them,—albeit protected by slicker and +boots and sou'wester—fascinated by the titanic struggle +between nature and man of which she was a witness. +How she came to be there herself is another chapter +and how the two men who stood by her came to be with +her is now to be related. +</p> + +<p> +The general investigation by Rodney and Miss +Illingworth had produced no results. A careful study by +each of the members of the new alliance of Rodney's +accurately reported, graphically set forth notes upon +the subject had only served the more thoroughly to +convince each of them of the correctness of their +conclusions. Analyzed and expanded, iterated and reiterated, +scrutinized and emphasized by each of them separately +and then together in many long discussions, +they only made them more and more confident that +Meade was blameless. But the most assiduous effort +with the heartiest will in the world and the promptings +of devotion and affection could not make a case out of +these suggestions and their inferences that would hold +water. They could not establish their contention +beyond peradventure in the face of Meade's direct +admission and Shurtliff's corroboration. They could not +establish it in the public mind by any evidence at all if +Meade and Shurtliff remained silent. +</p> + +<p> +If either one or the other of the two conspirators +could be brought to tell the truth, Meade could be +restored, at least sufficiently so for the purpose of +argument; the argument that Helen Illingworth sooner or +later must make to her father. It was that to which +she gave the most thought, it was for that she planned +and longed. +</p> + +<p> +Two people cannot resolve even by mutual consent +to dismiss from their daily thought and conversation +any subject whatsoever without introducing in place +of it a certain constraint. It is as futile to attempt to +dismiss anything absolutely from the human mind as +is the oft suggested cure for rheumatism—doing certain +things without thinking of the disease sought to +be cured! +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Illingworth had dismissed Meade from his +mind because he hated him. Helen Illingworth +refrained from talking about him to her father because +she loved him. So they were never in each other's +presence without thinking of the man. This was a source +of great irritation to the father. On occasion he +almost found himself at the point of shouting at his +daughter to talk about him. And that she so carefully +avoided the subject and as the avoidance was so +obviously in accordance with his own wish, the restraint +irritated him the more. The fact that they both +sought so carefully to maintain the old relationship +made it the more impossible. For relationships which +are primarily founded on love cannot be maintained by +constraint without the weakening of the great force +upon which their tenure had previously depended. +There is nothing like concealment to impair and weaken +a tie unless it be a ban! Prohibitions rarely prohibit. +Still there remained a deep and abiding affection +between father and daughter and they managed +somehow to get along outwardly much as before. Indeed +Colonel Illingworth was more kind and considerate than +ever to his daughter, and she repaid him with more than +usual care and devotion. The very fact that she +seemed to have accepted the situation and obeyed the +law he had laid down gave him some compunctions of +conscience. On that account perhaps he had been the +more willing to accede to her request to take Shurtliff +into his employ. In no way was Shurtliff responsible +for the failure of the bridge or for any mistake in the +calculations of the Meades, and Shurtliff was an +invaluable man, not only for an engineer but for the +president of the Martlet Bridge Company. +</p> + +<p> +He was familiar with the subjects that Colonel +Illingworth discussed and wrote about. He was intelligent +and reliable to the last degree, his reputation for +steadiness and discretion unquestioned, and he was +marvelously efficient in his subordinate position. The +Colonel, having first tried him out, had advanced him +rapidly after learning his worth. He was now his +private secretary. Shurtliff being an old bachelor +without kith or kin and not originally fond of women, +found himself suddenly in touch with one of the +sweetest and kindest, as well as the youngest and most +beautiful of a sex about which he knew nothing. +</p> + +<p> +His new position naturally brought him into close +touch with the Colonel. The old man transacted a +good deal of his business in his own house. Shurtliff +was frequently there. Under other circumstances +Helen Illingworth would have treated him with that +fine and gracious courtesy which she extended to +everyone with whom she came in contact, but she would not +have especially interested herself in him. She would +not have made him the object of the delicate attention +and given him the careful consideration which would +have completely turned the head of a younger and +more susceptible man. +</p> + +<p> +There had been a prejudice in Shurtliff's mind +against women in general, and Helen Illingworth in +particular. He had quickly realized that she above all +persons had the greatest interest in disproving Meade's +statement and his own and in laying the blame for the +failure of the bridge where it belonged, on the shoulders +of the patron, to love whom had been the habit of +his life. Therefore, the old secretary was constantly +on his guard lest he be entrapped into admissions or +actions which might be used to discredit the older +Meade and convict the two conspirators. +</p> + +<p> +But Helen Illingworth was far too clever to allow +any inkling of such a design to appear. Not the +remotest hint of such a purpose did she betray. She +deliberately set about to win the old man's regard and +respect and perhaps eventually his affection. She had +the ordering of her father's household, of course. That +was a matter in which the Colonel concerned himself +not at all so long as things went smoothly, as they +always did. He was a little astonished at her treatment +of Shurtliff, but the old secretary was at heart +a gentleman and there was no reason why, if Helen +chose to include him among her friends and invite him +to dinner and otherwise make him welcome in the house, +she should not do so. And in his dry, precise way +Shurtliff was rather likable. He was touched and +flattered by her kindness and in spite of his suspicions, +which gradually grew less, by the way, he exerted +himself to show his appreciation and to bear himself +seemingly in his new life. +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Illingworth had no suspicions whatsoever +that there had been any conspiracy to suppress the +truth and shift the blame. True his daughter had +protested on that fatal day that she did not believe Meade +and Shurtliff, but that was in the excitement of the +moment and understandable in view of her plighted +troth. Helen had never discussed that with him; even +the very name of the engineer being banned, she was +silent. She was wise enough not to try to worry or +bother her father with arguments on that point, to +which, of course, he would not have listened in any +event. +</p> + +<p> +Accordingly the conferences with Rodney had never +been brought to his notice. There was no use stirring +up trouble and strife. There was no necessity even to +discuss it with her father until she had found more +proof. So he at least had no suspicions as to her +treatment of Shurtliff. He could not see any end to +be gained and therefore he jumped to the conclusion +that there was none. +</p> + +<p> +In course of time, as Miss Illingworth never referred +to Meade in the secretary's presence, all his mistrust +disappeared. Finally he even brought up the subject +of Meade's whereabouts of his own motion. Although +the girl was fairly wild to talk and ask questions she +had wit and resolution enough to change the subject +when it had been first broached and for many times +thereafter. +</p> + +<p> +Helen Illingworth was fighting for the reputation of +the man she loved and for her own happiness, and she +was resolved to neglect no point in the game. She +partook in a large measure of her father's capacity, +but she added to his somewhat blunt and military way +of doing things the infinite tact of woman, stimulated +by a growing, overwhelming devotion to her absent +lover. She cherished that feeling for him in any event +and would have done so but the whole situation was so +charged with mystery and surcharged with romance +that it made the most powerful and stimulating appeal +to her. +</p> + +<p> +She lived to vindicate Meade and she bent every +effort toward that end. She did not overdo it, either. +Finally, as he himself continued to press the subject +upon her, she made no secret to Shurtliff of her +devotion to the younger Meade, her sorrow that he had +made such a declaration, and her determination to wait +for him. She was always careful to end every conversation +by saying that she knew her outlook was perfectly +hopeless and that she could expect nothing except +sorrow until the younger Meade was rehabilitated. +She so contrived matters, while constantly affirming +her feeling for Meade, as to let Shurtliff infer that she +was convinced that he had been telling the truth in +what he had said. +</p> + +<p> +After a time she deftly appealed to him to know if +he could not help her discover the truth which she +tactfully maintained even in face of the evidence that +Shurtliff had given. And she did this in such an adroit +way that Shurtliff became convinced that she did not +connect him with any willful deception, and that she +believed that he was deluded himself and occupied the +position of an innocent abettor. And Shurtliff, in his +strange, old, self-contained way, finally grew to like +Helen Illingworth exceedingly. Indeed he started in +his work with natural antagonism to Colonel Illingworth, +and when he sensed, as he very soon did, the +difference that had arisen between father and daughter, +he espoused the cause of the latter. He was the kind +of a man who had to devote himself to somebody. He +began to wonder if there was any way to secure the +girl's happiness without betraying the elder Meade. +</p> + +<p> +She compassed the secretary, who was, of course, old +enough to be her father, with sweet observances and he +found it increasingly hard to keep true to his +falsehood. Now she was capable of fascinating bigger +personalities than Shurtliff, although she cared little for +that power and rarely exercised it. The old man +actually got to thinking of her as a daughter. +Sometimes when they had an hour together he found himself +seconding her arguments for the innocence of the +younger Meade, for she had progressed that far by +now, with little details which his knowledge and +experience of the two men could supply. Trifling in +themselves as were these contributions, as Rodney pointed +out when she repeated them to him, they nevertheless +added something to the cumulative force of the argument +so laboriously built up by the friend and woman. +And they were decidedly indicative of a growing mental +condition on the part of Shurtliff from which much +might be hoped and expected. +</p> + +<p> +But Shurtliff could not bring himself to come out +boldly and confess, and his failure to do that made him +more and more miserable. At first his conscience had +been entirely clear. He had viewed his conduct in the +light of a noble sacrifice for the great man. Now he +began to question: Was it right to blast the future of +the living for the sake of the fame of the dead? +Probably he would have questioned that eventually without +regard to Helen Illingworth, but when he began to +grow fond of the woman and when he realized, as she +unmistakably disclosed it to him, that her own +happiness was engaged and that he was not only ruining +the career of a man but wrecking the life and crushing +the heart of an entirely innocent woman, he had a +constant battle royal with himself to pursue his course and +to keep silent. +</p> + +<p> +Yet such is the character of a temperament like that +of Shurtliff, narrowed and contracted by a single +passion in a life and lacking the breadth which comes +from intercourse with men and women, that his +compunctions of conscience only made him the more +resolved. The lonely, heartbroken old man swore that +he would never tell. The young man could go his own +gait and work out his own salvation, or be damned, if +he must. The woman's heart might break, pitiful as +that would be, but he would never tell. He was as +unhappy in that determination as any other man +fighting against his conscience must inevitably be. +</p> + +<p> +Sometimes looking at the misery in the old man's +face (for on his countenance his heart wrote his secret), +Helen Illingworth experienced compunctions of +conscience of her own, which she told to Rodney in default +of other confessor. That fine young man appreciated +fully the woman's feelings and understood her keen +sensibilities, and his comprehension was a great +comfort to her. He encouraged her to persevere. Since +it was only through Shurtliff that the truth could be +established, she must not falter nor reject any fair +and reasonable means to gain his whole confidence and +make him speak. It was, after all, simply a question +of whether the game was worth the candle. How best +could they expose or fight a deceit? And that the +deception was for a noble purpose and to serve a laudable +end in the minds of the deceivers did not alter that +fact. +</p> + +<p> +"You are doing nothing in the least degree dishonorable, +Miss Illingworth," said Rodney, reassuringly. +"Woman's wiles have been her weapons since the Stone Age." +</p> + +<p> +"But I do feel compunctions of conscience occasionally." +</p> + +<p> +"Personally I think you are abundantly justified," +urged Rodney. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, to establish the truth, to give the man I love +his good name would justify more than this," she +replied, "and yet"—she smiled faintly—"my conscience +does hurt me a little. The old man is beginning to +love me." +</p> + +<p> +"That's the reason it hurts you," said Rodney. +"When he loves you enough he will do anything you +want, as I would——" +</p> + +<p> +The young man stopped, looked long at her, and then +turned away with a little gesture of—was it appeal or +renunciation? He was too loyal to his friend to speak, +but he could not control everything. The tone of his +voice, the look in his eyes, his quick avoidance of her, +told the woman a little story. They had been very +closely associated, these two. Rodney also had not had +much advantage of woman's society, certainly not of +a woman like Helen Illingworth. She had given him +her full confidence in the intimacy. He was a man. He +loved like others. She was too fond of him, too great, +too true a woman to pretend. +</p> + +<p> +"Mr. Rodney," said the girl, laying her hand on his +arm, "that way madness lies." +</p> + +<p> +"Miss Illingworth," said Rodney, turning and facing +her, his lips firmly compressed, his eyes shining, +"I'm devoted to Bert Meade and to you"—he lifted +her hand from his arm and kissed it—"and I'm going +to do everything for your happiness." +</p> + +<p> +Brave words and he said them bravely. +</p> + +<p> +"I understand," said the woman, "and I honor you +for your loyalty to your friend and your devotion to +me. Loyalty is not always the easiest thing on earth, +I know." +</p> + +<p> +"You make it easy for me because you understand." +</p> + +<p> +So the fall and winter were filled with interest to +Helen Illingworth and there was in her days no lack +of hope. Every Saturday the flowers that Meade had +arranged for spoke words of love to her and bade her +not forget, although that was admonition she did not +need. +</p> + +<p> +That was the only message that she received from +her lover. He had dropped out of sight completely. +They caused search to be made for him, sought tidings +of him in every possible way, but in vain. Her heart +almost broke sometimes at the separation. She had +confidence enough in her power over him, and in her +woman's wit, to feel that if she had only another +opportunity she might learn the truth, force it from him, +constrain him to tell it, because she loved him! +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap26"></a></p> + +<h3> +XXVI +<br><br> +ONCE MORE UNTO THE WORK +</h3> + +<p> +The Martlet Bridge Company had finally weathered +the storm, although it was, of course, not +intrusted with the new International Bridge +which was about to be commenced. When Bertram +Meade read of the new undertaking, it cut him to the +heart. This time there would be no mistake. In the +necessity of recouping its fortunes, the Martlet Bridge +Company entered upon an even wider career. The +directors took contracts which they had hitherto +disdained because they were comparatively unimportant, +and they bid on operations which they had hitherto +left to competitors. They cut the prices down to the +lowest limit to get work, to demonstrate that the +company was still a force to be reckoned with, a power to +be considered in the engineering problems of the world. +</p> + +<p> +They were building the great steel viaduct by the +town of Coronado below the dam, and they had already +built the splendid steel arch that spanned the ravine, +here almost a gorge, in the valley of the Kicking Horse +to the eastward of the big mesa. +</p> + +<p> +After Christmas, Colonel Illingworth decided to +make another of his tours of inspection, and as Helen +was not looking particularly well from the strain under +which she was laboring, he offered to take her with him, +especially as he was going to the far Southwest, where +the weather would be mild and pleasant, to inspect the +growing viaduct and the completed arch. She gladly +availed herself of the permission. There was always +a possibility, albeit a most remote one, that she might +hear of Meade if she got in touch with engineering +works, and here was not one project but three! +Accordingly, feeling the value of his presence, she +suggested to her father, in view of the wide extent of the +trip and the important interest of engineering circles +in the viaduct and dam and irrigation project, that it +might be well to invite a representative of <i>The +Engineering News</i>, to wit, Rodney, to accompany them, so +that the really splendid work the Martlet Company +was doing to regain its former high position might be +made widely known. The party consisted of the father +and daughter, Curtiss, the chief engineer, Dr. Severance, +the vice-president and financial man, and Rodney. +</p> + +<p> +Now Helen Illingworth had not the least reason in +the world to suspect that Bertram Meade was in any +way connected with this engineering project, but +Rodney had pointed out and had imbued her with his own +belief that sooner or later when Meade was found, he +would be found engaged in engineering in some +capacity. +</p> + +<p> +"It's in his blood," said Rodney. "He can no more +keep away from it than he can stop breathing. He +can't do anything else. Somewhere he's at the old job. +It might be in America, and it might be out there at +Coronado, or it might be in South America, Europe, +Asia, or——" +</p> + +<p> +"I wonder if we can't find out all the engineering +work that is being done in the world and send +representatives to seek him," said Helen Illingworth. +</p> + +<p> +Rodney laughed. +</p> + +<p> +"To hunt that way would be like hunting a needle +in a haystack. I cannot bid you hope that he is there; +in fact I think it is most unlikely that he would be any +place near where the Martlet people are operating, but +there's a chance, even if only the faintest one." +</p> + +<p> +Well, women's hearts can build a great deal on a +faint chance. They are calculated for the forlorn +hope. And so Helen Illingworth stood on the steps of +the private car as it rolled across the mile-long +temporary bridge at Coronado, and scanned the workmen +grouped on one side of the track, their work suspended +for a moment that the train might pass on the wooden +trestling, in hope that she could see in one of them the +man she loved and sought. And Rodney stood by her +side, equally interested, searching the crowd with his +glance, also. +</p> + +<p> +There was nothing in the town to attract Helen +Illingworth out of the car. She had visited West and +Southwest many times. Colonel Illingworth, with Rodney +and Severence, there left the train. They had, of +course, business connected with the bridge which +Rodney wanted to see and report upon. Miss Illingworth +decided to go into the hills and get away from the arid +and heated plains. A siding had been built near the +steel arch under the slope of the hill from which the +huge mesa arose. It would be pleasanter and quieter +to side-track the car there. The siding was within two +miles of the dam and the mesa was something to look +at and something to climb. The Kicking Horse ravine +and the Picket Wire valley presented rather attractive +possibilities for exploration and adventure in their +pine-clad hills and the car was to be placed there. The +men left behind would use the private car of the division +superintendent of the railroad when they had ended +their several tasks. +</p> + +<p> +It had been raining dismally during the afternoon +and when the car was detached and switched to the +siding and left up in the hills some twenty miles from +the town, it was too wet and uncomfortable to leave it. +Disregarding the downpour, however, Curtiss, who had +come up with it, made a very careful investigation of +the completed steel arch bridge, which more than +surpassed his expectations in its appearance of sturdy +grace, as well as in the evidences of careful +workmanship in its erection. +</p> + +<p> +That evening the special engine pushed the other +private car up from the valley, bringing the people +who had inspected the bridge. A few more weeks would +complete the great viaduct. Everything was proceeding +in the most satisfactory way and Colonel Illingworth +was very much elated over the situation. +</p> + +<p> +"Who would have thought," he said as they sat +down to dinner in the brightly lighted observation +room, "that it would rain in this country at this season +of the year?" +</p> + +<p> +"It will probably be over by tomorrow morning," +observed Rodney. +</p> + +<p> +"If it continued long enough and rained hard +enough that dam would have to be looked after. We'll +go over and see it tomorrow," said the Colonel +cheerfully. +</p> + +<p> +"What would happen if it gave way?" asked his +daughter. +</p> + +<p> +"It would flood the valley, sweep away the town, +and——" he paused. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, father?" +</p> + +<p> +"Ruin the bridge." +</p> + +<p> +"We can't afford to have another failure after the +International," said Severence. +</p> + +<p> +Now there was a newcomer at the table, a big rancher +named Winters, whom Rodney had met in the town and +had introduced to Colonel Illingworth. The latter had +invited him to dinner and to stay the night in the extra +sleeper, and Winters, who had particular reasons for +wanting to talk with Rodney and to meet Miss Illingworth, +had accepted. +</p> + +<p> +"You can count on its stopping," he said at last. +"My ranch is a hundred miles to the north of here. I +heard Rodney was with your party and as he was an +old classmate of mine, in fact my best friend at +Harvard along with Bert Meade"—and the mention of the +forbidden name caused quick glances to be passed +around the table, but raised no comment—"the chance +of seeing him brought me down here. I know the +weather along this whole section of the country, it's +the driest place on earth, and I would almost offer to +swallow all the rain that will fall after this storm spends +itself." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, that's good," said Curtiss, "because I've +heard that the dam lacks a very little of completion +but that the spill-way has been delayed." +</p> + +<p> +"You'll find that the storm has broken in the +morning," said Winters confidently. +</p> + +<p> +After dinner Colonel Illingworth, desirous of talking +business, called the men of the party, except +Rodney and Winters, back into the observation room of +the other car, leaving the two men with Helen. +</p> + +<p> +"Mr. Shurtliff," said Helen, as the men stepped out +on the platform, the secretary following, since his +employer had intimated his services might be needed, "if +you can, I wish you would come back here as soon as +possible." +</p> + +<p> +"Certainly, Miss Illingworth," said the secretary, +"immediately, if your father finds that he does not +need me." +</p> + +<p> +"Rod," said Winters when they were alone, "I'd +go a long way to see you, but I might as well be frank. +I did not come down these hundred miles, leaving my +ranch in the dead of winter with all its possibilities of +mishap to the cattle, simply to see you, or even Miss +Illingworth here, although she's worth it," he went on +with the frank bluntness of a Western man. +</p> + +<p> +"Of course, you didn't," said Rodney, smiling. "I +know I'm not a sufficient attraction." +</p> + +<p> +"I came to talk about Meade." +</p> + +<p> +"Mr. Winters," said Helen, clasping her hands over +her knees and leaning forward, "if you know anything +about him, where he is, what he is doing, how he fares, +is he well, does he think of—I beg you to tell me." +</p> + +<p> +"Miss Illingworth, there is nothing I would refuse +to tell you if it rested with me." +</p> + +<p> +"I don't mind confessing to you, you are such old +friends, you and Mr. Rodney, and so devoted to Bert, +that I am worrying——" +</p> + +<p> +"You need say nothing more, Miss Illingworth. I +know all about the situation. Rodney wrote me +and——" +</p> + +<p> +"Well then, you understand my anxiety, my reason +for asking?" +</p> + +<p> +"I do." +</p> + +<p> +"And you will tell us?" +</p> + +<p> +"I wish to God I could." +</p> + +<p> +"Can't you tell us anything?" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, yes, I can." +</p> + +<p> +"What?" +</p> + +<p> +"It may be a breach of confidence." +</p> + +<p> +"I'd take the risk," said the girl, her bosom +heaving. Was she at last about to hear from her lover? +</p> + +<p> +"Know where he is, old man?" asked Rodney. +</p> + +<p> +"I think so, not sure, but——" +</p> + +<p> +"Where?" from the woman, breathlessly. +</p> + +<p> +"I didn't agree to tell you that." +</p> + +<p> +"What then?" +</p> + +<p> +"All I can say is that after the death of his father +he turned up at my ranch one day some five months +ago and told me his story." +</p> + +<p> +"What!" exclaimed Rodney. "Did he tell you he +was innocent?" +</p> + +<p> +"Not at first. He told me he was guilty." +</p> + +<p> +"But you didn't believe him, did you?" asked the +woman impulsively. +</p> + +<p> +"I certainly did not." +</p> + +<p> +"Why not?" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I don't know why. I just didn't, that's all. +I know Meade. I know him well. I know his makeup. +We get accustomed to sizing up a man's actions +out West here and it didn't take me longer than it took +him to tell the story to know that it wasn't true." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, thank you for that," said the woman. +</p> + +<p> +"But our beliefs are not evidence, Dick," interposed +Rodney. +</p> + +<p> +"We can't prove it and that's the point, I told +him," continued Winters, "that it was a da—darned +lie—I beg your pardon, Miss Illingworth. I mean I +told him that it was not true and that he was a fool for +sticking to it, and—er—he—admitted—I—er," floundered +Winters, suddenly realizing that he was on the +eve of a breach of confidence and checking himself just +in time. "In fact the subject was painful to him and +I let him alone, which is what we generally do to a man +who doesn't want his affairs inquired into too +closely," Winters ended lamely, realizing how near he had come +to betraying his friend's confidence and telling of +Meade's own admission that he had said what he had +to save the fame and honor of the father. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, what next?" asked Rodney, understanding +as did Helen Illingworth herself the ranchman's hesitation +and respecting it, although the unavoidable inference +gave her great joy. +</p> + +<p> +"He hung around the ranch for a month or six +weeks to get his balance. He was pretty badly broken +up. I'm a bachelor myself and don't know much about +those things, but I can say that he loved you, Miss +Illingworth, more than life itself." +</p> + +<p> +"But not more than the reputation of his father," +she said with a little tinge of bitterness. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I take it he looked at that as a matter of +honor. You know a man's got to keep his ideals of honor." +</p> + +<p> +"Even at the expense of a woman's heart?" said +the girl. +</p> + +<p> +"It sounds hard, but I guess we've got to admit +that. But that's neither here nor there," he continued, +gliding over the subject, "the point is I found that +he had to fight it out himself and I mainly let him +alone. I gave him a horse and gun and turned him +loose in the wilds. Best place on earth for a man in +his condition, Miss Illingworth. You can go out into +the wilderness and get nearer to God there than any +place I know of. He came back finally, turned in his +gun, borrowed the horse, bade me good-bye and said +he was going out to make a new start." +</p> + +<p> +"Where did he go? Which way?" +</p> + +<p> +"He was headed south when I saw him last, and all +this lay in his way." +</p> + +<p> +"You mean——?" cried the woman. +</p> + +<p> +"He may be here?" said Rodney. +</p> + +<p> +Winters nodded. +</p> + +<p> +"I have thought so. It's only a guess, of course, and +probably a poor one. But when I read in the papers +that Colonel Illingworth was coming out here and that +you were along, and Miss Illingworth, I thought I'd +just take a run down here and see what could be done." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, I'm so glad you have come." +</p> + +<p> +"He's not working on the bridge," said Rodney. +</p> + +<p> +"How do you know, Rod?" +</p> + +<p> +"I examined all the payrolls and none of them bears +his name." +</p> + +<p> +"He wouldn't work under his own name in the +Martlet Bridge Company," said the woman. +</p> + +<p> +"Certainly not. That was only my first step. I +went around among the workmen, too, and I got a look +at every one of them. I'm sure he's not there." +</p> + +<p> +"He wouldn't be a common workman, would he?" +asked the girl, more disappointed than she could express. +</p> + +<p> +"Certainly not. He'd be keeping track of material, +or running a transit, or acting as a gang foreman. +Most of the workmen are foreigners, although +the bridge erectors are Americans." +</p> + +<p> +"You're sure that he's not there?" +</p> + +<p> +"Absolutely." +</p> + +<p> +"There's the dam," said Winters. "We'll try that +in the morning." +</p> + +<p> +"What good is it going to do us, Dick?" asked +Rodney a little irritably. "Even if we do find him, +we can't make him speak." +</p> + +<p> +"I don't know," answered the woman slowly. "But +if I could just see him once again, Mr. Rodney"—she +spoke without hesitation or reserve and both men felt +deeply for her—"if I could just speak to him, if he +would only——" +</p> + +<p> +"I believe you can persuade him," said Winters. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, perhaps, but I want Shurtliff to speak first, +then we can approach our friend himself with more +confidence," said Rodney. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap27"></a></p> + +<h3> +XXVII +<br><br> +BRUTE FORCE OR FINESSE +</h3> + +<p> +"What do you want me to say, Mr. Rodney?" +asked Shurtliff, coming through +the door, having caught Rodney's use of +his name. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, Shurtliff——" began Rodney, somewhat +embarrassed at having been overheard. +</p> + +<p> +"What do you want me to speak about?" continued +the old man suspiciously, not giving the younger man +time to finish. "And what friend can you then +approach, sir?" +</p> + +<p> +"I'll tell you what I want," said Rodney. +</p> + +<p> +He quickly came to a decision. Standing up and +facing the old man, he staked everything on one bold +throw. Grasping the situation, Helen Illingworth held +her breath. Winters moved to take his own part in +the game at the proper time. +</p> + +<p> +"What is it, sir?" asked the secretary. +</p> + +<p> +"Shut the door and come in," was the answer. +</p> + +<p> +Rodney spoke sharply and it was a sort of indication, +characteristic of the difference in station +between an independent young man and a subservient +old man. +</p> + +<p> +"Here I am, sir," answered Shurtliff, closing the +door and standing before it. +</p> + +<p> +He shot a quick glance at the young woman. He +observed her tense position. He saw the emotions +that filled her soul in her face and bearing. All his +old suspicions rose like a flood. For the moment he +no longer cared for her. He almost hated her. He +looked from her to the dark-faced, determined Rodney, +to big, powerful, quiet Winters. Was this a trap? +Were they going to try to force him to speak? He +was a brave man, old Shurtliff, but his heart beat a +little faster as he faced them. He was quite master of +himself, though, cool, watchful, determined; in their +eyes rather admirable than otherwise. +</p> + +<p> +"The time has come for you to tell us the truth," +began Rodney emphatically. "You know that the +whole blame and responsibility for the failure of the +International Bridge is loaded on the wrong man. +You know that you permitted, and even made possible, +the sacrifice of the reputation of the son for the sake +of the fame of the father. You know that this girl +here is breaking her heart, that Meade's life is ruined, +and you're to blame. Now the time has come for you +to speak. We know as well as you that young Meade +is innocent. Here's our evidence." +</p> + +<p> +He drew a handful of papers from his breast pocket +and shook them in the face of the old man, who had +shrunk back against the side of the car and stood staring, +white-faced, thin-lipped, close-mouthed, inexorably +resolved still. +</p> + +<p> +"Read them," continued Rodney. "I'll admit to +you that the whole thing would not be worth the paper +it's written on in a court of law or even in a newspaper +report, but it's convincing to us and you can make it +convincing to everybody. You've got to speak." +</p> + +<p> +"Do you think, sir, that there's any power in your +stretched out arm or in your rude voice or in your +threatening gesture to make me speak?" +</p> + +<p> +"By the Lord," exclaimed Winters, suddenly whipping +out a Colt's forty-five from the holster at his +belt—he was dressed just as he had been when he rode +away from the ranch—"out West we've got ways for +persuading men to speak and this is one of them." +</p> + +<p> +Winters was a bigger man than Rodney. His life +had been wild and rough and his manner when he +wanted was according. He would fain add physical +compulsion under threat of death to Rodney's mental +insistence. +</p> + +<p> +"And do you think, sir, that I'm afraid of any +lethal weapon you can produce or even use, any more +than I am of Mr. Rodney's words?" The old man's +eyes flashed and his knees shook, but he had all the +spirit of a soldier as he looked into Winters' stern face, +full of threat and menace. His thin voice took on a +certain quality of courage. It even rang a little. His +courage was mainly moral, but there was some +accompanying physical hardihood, that was undoubted. +"You can beat me, you can even kill me, if you wish, +but you can't make me say a word I don't want to say +of my own free will," he cried out at last, his voice +strangely rising. +</p> + +<p> +"Gentlemen, gentlemen," said Helen Illingworth, +rising and swiftly interposing between the secretary +and the two angry men. She realized that the affair +had gone far enough and that she must intervene. They +had certainly failed lamentably, almost ludicrously. +"You are wrong to threaten Mr. Shurtliff. He is old +enough to be the father of either of you. Drop your +arm, Mr. Rodney. Put up that pistol, Mr. Winters. +Mr. Shurtliff," said the girl quickly, "as I am in a +certain sense your hostess and as you are in a certain +sense my guest here, I apologize to you for the improper +and impulsive conduct of these young men. They love +Bertram Meade dearly as I do. Let that be their +excuse. Meanwhile, they will apologize to you here +and now, I am sure." +</p> + +<p> +There was a moment of silence. Rodney and Winters +stared at each other and both looked at the girl, +confronting them so confidently in her superb and +beautiful way. Winters smiled a little shamefacedly +as he shoved his gun back into its holster. His had +indeed been the greater offense. +</p> + +<p> +"Mr. Winters, Mr. Rodney," said the girl insistently. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, I apologize. I suppose it was wrong to +threaten him," said Rodney disgustedly. +</p> + +<p> +"Hang it," said Winters, now utterly forgetful of +conventions, "it wasn't the thing to do to draw a gun +on a little, old man and I'm sorry I did it." +</p> + +<p> +"And now that we've apologized you'll tell us the +truth, won't you?" asked Rodney swiftly, with no +appreciable change of manner. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, we beg it now, humbly," chimed in Winters, +with anything but an humble air or voice. +</p> + +<p> +"I won't have Mr. Shurtliff even appealed to now," +said Miss Illingworth. "You have threatened him and +you have apologized. Whether he forgives you or not +is for him to decide, but he shall not be worried, or +questioned, or insulted any more." +</p> + +<p> +"Thank you, Miss Illingworth. I came for that +book on the desk; your father wants it," said Shurtliff +grimly, bowing slightly to her. +</p> + +<p> +He stepped a little tremblingly—the scene had been +unnerving—past the young men, picked up the book, +bowed again formally and unmistakably to Miss Illingworth +alone, and went out of the car. The honors of +the encounter were certainly his. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, Miss Illingworth," said Winters, "I don't +know whether you made a mistake or not. I think I +could have scared it out of him with this little +persuader of mine——" He tapped the butt of the pistol. +</p> + +<p> +"You couldn't have done it if you had killed him," +said the woman, who had read the old secretary +correctly. "He isn't what I call a daring man, but he has +courage that would take him to the stake rather than +make him give way, the courage of endurance rather +than of action. When he speaks, if he ever does, it +will be of his own free will." +</p> + +<p> +"Or because you may persuade him," said Rodney. +"By Jove, when I think it over it was the finest thing +you ever did." +</p> + +<p> +"Bert Meade's a lucky fellow," said Winters. +"You're the kind of a girl that ought to marry out +West, where we try to breed men that will match up." +</p> + +<p> +Helen Illingworth laughed a little, although she felt +no inclination to merriment. +</p> + +<p> +"That's a fine compliment," she said. "Well, this +has rather shaken me and I'm going to ask you +gentlemen to excuse me." +</p> + +<p> +"We'll see if he is working on the dam tomorrow." +</p> + +<p> +"You will stay all night, Mr. Winters?" +</p> + +<p> +"Your father invited me to take a bunk in his car +and to be perfectly frank with you I'd sleep out in the +open rain rather than miss a chance of being in on the +end of a game like this." +</p> + +<p> +The girl bowed and left them. +</p> + +<p> +"Dick," said Rodney slowly at last as the two sat +smoking together in the silence of complete understanding +and good comradeship, which requires no expression +in talk, "you're not the only man who thinks +that girl would be a good wife to a man." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah," said Winters, "sits the wind in that quarter, Rod?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," answered the other, "but I'm fighting this +thing through for Meade." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, by George," said the big ranchman, "you're +as good a man as Meade any day, fine fellow as he is. +I wish I had some chance to get in on this game and +make myself worthy of the two of you, let alone the +lady." +</p> + +<p> +It was a rare confidence that Rodney had vouchsafed +to his friend, and like every other Anglo-Saxon, having +said his say he did not wish to discuss it further. +</p> + +<p> +"Do you know," he began, changing the subject +abruptly, "I think things have turned out pretty well +in spite of our foolishness a while ago. I believe if +there's a spark of human gratitude in Shurtliff's heart +the girl's interposition when you and I were threatening +him, and her refusal to allow him to be questioned +later, will fan it into a flame. And I have an idea that +when he thinks it over he'll be about ready to tell." +</p> + +<p> +"Are you sure he has anything to tell?" +</p> + +<p> +"Certain." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I guess you're right. It sort of consoles +me for having drawn my gun, without using it, too. +And if he tells in the morning and we find Meade +everything will be lovely." +</p> + +<p> +"For everybody but me," said Rodney. +</p> + +<p> +"I'll tell you what, old man, when this thing's over +you're coming out to spend the rest of the winter with +me on the ranch. It's the greatest place on earth for +a man to buck up. There's no woman within fifty +miles." +</p> + +<p> +Rodney laughed a little grimly. +</p> + +<p> +"I'll go you," he said. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap28"></a></p> + +<h3> +XXVIII +<br><br> +THE BATTLE FROM ABOVE +</h3> + +<p> +The rain had stopped by morning, to the great +relief of Colonel Illingworth, Severence and +Curtiss, and the satisfaction of Helen Illingworth. +There was little sun to dry the big, red sandstone +mesa, its sides seamed into fantastic shapes, +which rose grandly between the valley of the Picket +Wire and the ravine of the Kicking Horse, and which +the young woman intended to cross in her walk toward +the dam with Rodney and Winters. The siding near +the steel arch bridge was close to the rock wall of the +ravine, which here had been so scoured out of the rocky +side of the mesa by torrents of other days that it could +fairly be called a gorge. Consequently the bank of +clouds above the horizon to the northwest was hid +behind the big butte from the occupants of the two +private cars. Although the day did not promise to be +fair, they had no idea of the further threat of storm +presaged by the black masses to the northwest. +</p> + +<p> +In sandy, porous soils such as here prevailed the +rain is absorbed quickly. They could traverse the +trails carpeted with the needles of centuries that ran +through the dripping pines without getting muddy and +with nothing more to fear than a wetting. Colonel +Illingworth, Severence, and Curtiss announced their +intention of going back to the town to continue their +consultations and observations concerning the progress +of work on the bridge. Shurtliff, who went about his +business gravely reserved, frigidly cold and +self-contained, had work to do at his desk. The woman and +the two young men were for the dam. +</p> + +<p> +After an early breakfast, therefore, the second car +was uncoupled and the engine backed it down around +the mesa toward the viaduct twenty miles below. +Rodney and Winters prepared to go with Miss Illingworth +across the wooded island, with its cresting of stone, so +to speak, that lay between the ravine and the valley. +The conductor of the train, a local employee of the +railroad, told them that the shortest way was directly +over the mesa. The sandstone of which this huge +mound was mainly composed had been broken and +disintegrated on all sides by centuries of erosion and +weathering and there were practicable ascents and +descents at both ends. The nearest ascent was at the +side of the big tableland directly opposite which the +car was placed. +</p> + +<p> +The trails through the pines which covered the hill +up to the very foot of the big butte were unfrequented +and in bad repair, but practicable if the traveler was +prepared for a wetting. The shortest and on the whole +the easiest way to the dam would be to make their way +to the foot of the mesa, climb it through the big ravine +and cross it to the lower end, less than two miles away, +where there was an easy descent to the dam. +</p> + +<p> +"And if you get caught in the rain," said the conductor, +"which ain't likely, for it's already rained more +in the last twenty-four hours than in the last twenty-four +years, it seems to me, there's a hut, half stone +and half timber, up on the mesa that campers sometimes +make use of when they want to see the sun rise, +which is a mighty fine sight from there. It was in +pretty fair shape when I visited it last year and you +can find shelter there. It's at the highest point on the +mesa. You can see a long way up the gulch there, and +a longer way down and up the Picket Wire valley. +Above the dam it used to show a level, fertile stretch +between the hills, but it's all a lake now." +</p> + +<p> +Shurtliff, of course, declined Miss Illingworth's +invitation to accompany the party on plea of urgent +duties and important papers to prepare. He had +spoken no words to Rodney or Winters, and those +gentlemen made no effort to engage him in conversation. +They were, in truth, a little ashamed of their +actions of the night before. They were exceedingly +anxious as to whether their theories as to the possible +effect of Miss Illingworth's action would be justified, +so they carefully avoided the secretary, letting the +leaven work if it would. To their disappointment it +gave no sign of life or action. +</p> + +<p> +Of the four most interested in Meade, Winters was +the only one who had slept soundly that night. Rodney +was too much in love with the woman ever to sleep +soundly again, he thought, certainly not until her +future had been settled and her relations to Meade finally +determined. Shurtliff's feelings were painful in the +extreme. Torn between the old habit of affection for +the dead, his new habit of affection for the woman, his +oft recurring compunction of conscience, his immediate +resentment of the treatment of the two men, his +acknowledgment of the splendid action of the woman, his +suspicions, his uncertainty, as to how the younger +Meade would take it if he told the truth, he slept not +at all. +</p> + +<p> +Into Helen Illingworth's mind also had come, although +to her credit be it said not until she had retired +and had thought over her action in the light of the +hints given, that perhaps her generous interposition in +behalf of Shurtliff might move his gratitude and that +he might at last vouchsafe her the help which she felt +more certain than ever he alone could give. She was +glad when the thought came to her that she could look +herself squarely in the face and declare to her +conscience that it had not been back of her action, which +had been purely spontaneous. +</p> + +<p> +The possibility, although a faint one, that Meade +might be working on the dam and that she might see +him on the morrow would have sufficed to give her a +wakeful night, Rodney was a more careful observer +than Winters, but even the cattleman noticed that she +looked worn and strained as he helped her out of the +car for their tramp across the mesa to the dam. +</p> + +<p> +"You know," he said, with rough and ready sympathy, +"we haven't the least assurance that Meade is +there. It's only a chance, and probably a long one." +</p> + +<p> +"I shall never rest until it is decided absolutely one +way or the other," said the woman. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I'm not much of a walker," said the cattleman. +"I generally prefer to get over the ground +astride of a broncho, but I guess I can keep up with +the party for two miles, if that's the distance." +</p> + +<p> +It was dark and damp and wet under the pines. As +the conductor had said, the trail was an execrable one. +Although the two men cleared the way for her, holding +branches back and shaking the water off the drooping +boughs, it was well Helen Illingworth was protected +from the wet. She had tramped hills and mountains +many a time, camp and forest were familiar to her. +She wore a short-skirted dress, stout boots and +leggings, and a yellow western slicker. +</p> + +<p> +The exertion of the upward climb, stumbling over +broken branches and uprooted logs and floundering +through boggy places on the trail, brought a touch of +color to her face, and though damp, the air sweet and +fragrant, clean and pure, refreshed and pleased her +greatly; the men, too. It was a hard pull and she was +out of breath when she reached the broken coulee, or +ravine, which led to the top of the big red sandstone +plateau. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm terribly out of practice," she said to the two +men, "but I don't believe I'm in any worse state than +you are, Mr. Winters." +</p> + +<p> +"I told you I wasn't any good on foot," said Winters, +who was blowing like a grampus. +</p> + +<p> +Rodney laughed at the two of them. +</p> + +<p> +"Look at me," he said. "I'm as fresh as when I began." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, you're used to walking," returned Winters. +"It's this plugging along this broken trail that has +knocked us out. The rich, they ride on—bronchos, +you know." +</p> + +<p> +"When we get on top of the mesa we will find it +easier going," said Rodney encouragingly. +</p> + +<p> +"Let us start," said the girl, suddenly serious, as +she thought what might be at the end of the journey. +</p> + +<p> +"Before we go any further," said Winters, staring +up the ravine at the sky which showed above it, "just +take a look at that." +</p> + +<p> +He pointed to the black clouds rapidly rising, apparently +against the wind, which swayed rather violently +the tops of the tallest pines, although they were +protected and in comparative quiet where they stood +in the ravine. +</p> + +<p> +"It looks as if there were more rain there," said +Rodney. +</p> + +<p> +"It's incredible," answered Winters, "after what +we've had." +</p> + +<p> +"But it certainly is coming down again and if I'm +any judge it will be another cloudburst." +</p> + +<p> +"Perhaps we'd better go back," suggested Winters +to Miss Illingworth. +</p> + +<p> +"Go back!" exclaimed the girl. "When I'm as +near as this?" +</p> + +<p> +"But it's only a possibility, you know." +</p> + +<p> +"Possibility or not it would take a deluge in my path +to stop me. Come." +</p> + +<p> +She stepped toward the broken ravine. Rodney +sprang before her. Winters brought up the rear. It +was an entirely practicable climb, but rather a hard +one on the wet, crumbling rocks. It did not take the +three young people long to surmount the difficulties, +however, and after a few minutes they stood on top of +the mesa. It was bare of vegetation, save in scattered +little earth pockets, grass-covered, where dwarfed pines +grew, stunted trees centuries old. Its general surface +was level, but the upturned expanse was seamed and +guttered in every direction like the wrinkles in a face +that had confronted the sky for how many thousand +years no one knew, for the rock was the early old red +sandstone of the triassic period. +</p> + +<p> +Near at hand was the hut of which the conductor +had spoken. It stood upon a little rise above the general +level and from it one could obviously see far in every +direction. There ran valley and gorge, there extended +the high waters of the new-made lake, already dark +under the clouds. Before them rose hill on hill, each +overtowering the others until they merged into the +high-land of the great rampart-like range, its serrated peaks +showing whiter their crowns of snow against the blackness +of the heavens. Between the hills and over the +lower crest of Baldwin's Knob they could even see dimly +the far-off plains, a little sickly yellow light still +lingering there before the advance of the storm. +</p> + +<p> +The hut was made of stone and logs. The doors and +windows had long since vanished and the broad eaves +overhanging the walls were rotting away, but the inside +they found upon inspection was fairly dry. They had +not any more than reached it before the storm began. +Claps of thunder, flashes of lightning under which the +army on the dam were fighting, were heard and seen with +tenfold clearness by the little group on the huge upland. +</p> + +<p> +It was a sight to awe the very soul of humanity. +Miles and miles down the mountain side and among the +hills the whirling battalions of clouds rolled and tumbled +and tossed and clashed like aerial armies. The lightning, +while it was not in sheets, was practically continuous, +flash succeeding flash in uncountable and blinding +succession. Again they noticed the strange coruscating, +bursting effect as bolt after bolt apparently +struck some granite ledge and was then thrown back in +splinters of fire. The heavy awful roll of the thunder +was continuous and terrific. +</p> + +<p> +They stood staring through door and windows in +silence, Meade and their quest forgot in the appalling +tempest by all except the woman. It was she who +recalled them. +</p> + +<p> +"Let us hasten on," she said, and she had almost to +scream to make herself heard in the wild tumult. "It's +magnificent, wonderful, but——" +</p> + +<p> +As a matter of fact all the manifestations of nature +at its grandest would not have sufficed to turn her head +away from her lover's face if she could have seen him. +</p> + +<p> +"You can't go now," said Winters decisively, "the +rain's bad enough as it is and that cloud will burst in a +minute. Old Noah's flood won't be a circumstance +to it." +</p> + +<p> +"I'm protected from the rain," she answered. +</p> + +<p> +Winters shook his head. +</p> + +<p> +"The weight of it would almost beat you down, Miss +Illingworth." +</p> + +<p> +"I haven't had any experience with it, but I think +Winters is right," said Rodney. +</p> + +<p> +"I'll go on alone, then," said the girl passionately, +stepping out of the house, "if you gentlemen don't care +to come." +</p> + +<p> +The next moment, with a culminating scream like +the shriek of all the lost souls of creation heard above +the furious detonating roll of the thunder, the wind +added its quota to the demonstration of natural force, +and now the rain fairly dropped upon them in +apparently solid sheets. Of course clouds do not burst. +Such a thing is scientifically and meteorologically +impossible, but anyone who has ever experienced the +suddenness and fury and weight of a western deluge in a +normally dry land will understand the term. The wind +swept over the plateau where it had free course like a +hurricane; the rain came down in masses apparently. +Until their eyes became accustomed to it, the falling +water blotted out the landscape. +</p> + +<p> +The woman was hurled against the side of the house +by the sudden and violent assault of the hurricane. +The two men half dragged, half carried her around to +the lee side of the cabin. The roof of the hut had given +way here and there, and within it was soon flooded. +Where they stood, however, by chance happened to be +the solidest part of the overhang of the roof and they +were in some degree protected, that is from the direct +violence of the downpour. They were, of course, +drenched in a few minutes in spite of their raincoats. +With one man on either side of her to give her as much +protection as possible, the woman leaned against the +stone wall and stared through the rain down the valley, +seeking to see the dam, perhaps a mile and a half away. +Of course the maximum of the downpour could not last +any more than the maximum of the gale, but the deluge +was succeeded by a heavy driving rain still swept on by +a strong wind. +</p> + +<p> +Below the mesa the lake was whipped into foam by the +beat of the rain and rolled into waves by the assault of +the wind. All three of them knew what this deluge +portended. The downpour would raise the level of the lake +so that it would overflow the dam, which would be swept +away, the valley would be inundated by a flood, like a +tidal wave, the incompleted viaduct would be ruined, the +town would be overwhelmed, the loss of life and property +would be appalling. +</p> + +<p> +"The spill-way ought to take it," shouted Winters, +knowing what was in the minds of the other two by what +was in his own. +</p> + +<p> +"It's not finished," roared Rodney. +</p> + +<p> +Winters threw up his hands. +</p> + +<p> +"Will the dam hold it?" cried the woman, understanding. +</p> + +<p> +"Until the water rises above it. Just as soon as it +begins to wash over it will go, and the quicker for +these waves," answered Rodney at the top of his voice. +</p> + +<p> +"And the bridge and the town," screamed the woman. +</p> + +<p> +"They, too." +</p> + +<p> +"And father?" +</p> + +<p> +"He'll be all right, they've had warning. The +engineers on the dam must know the danger now. They're +working like mad." +</p> + +<p> +He had brought a small six-power field glass with +him and he was straining his eyes through it. The +violence of rain and wind had sensibly abated, although it +was still coming down in torrents. With his knowledge +of what would probably be attempted, Rodney was able +to see through his glass something of what was being +done even at that distance. +</p> + +<p> +"They're building palisades on top of the dam and +backing it with an earth mound. See, they are dropping +sand bags over," he stated, handing the glass to +the other man. +</p> + +<p> +"By heaven," shouted Winters, "they're making a +magnificent fight." +</p> + +<p> +In his excitement he left the shelter of the hut and +stalked through the rain toward the edge of the mesa, +where he could have a better and nearer view. In spite +of Rodney's remonstrances, even though backed by his +outstretched arm, the woman followed. Presently all +three, indifferent to the beat of the rain and the assault +of the wind, stood watching the battle on the dam. It +was abating still more, fortunately, or else they could +scarcely have sustained the attack of that wind and +rain, nor could they have seen at all, even with that +glass. +</p> + +<p> +Staring down at the dam after a moment Helen +Illingworth took the glass from Rodney. She focused +it rapidly and looked steadily through it. She knew +what she was seeking as she stood steadying herself with +splendid nerve and resolution and swept the length of +the dam back and forth. +</p> + +<p> +"I don't see him. He's not there," she said at last, +handing the glass back to its owner. +</p> + +<p> +"If he were there, you'd see him all right," said +Winters enthusiastically, "because he'd be in the thick +of the fight." +</p> + +<p> +"I doubt if you can recognize anyone even through +the glass, at such a distance," said Rodney, after he had +focused it and taken a look himself. "Yet if he were +there he certainly would be in the thick of it. He's that +kind. You look, Dick." +</p> + +<p> +"I can't see him," said Winters in turn. "But what +a fight they are making to save that dam." +</p> + +<p> +"Will it hold?" asked the woman. +</p> + +<p> +"Impossible," said Rodney. +</p> + +<p> +"I give it one hour," said Winters, handing over the glass. +</p> + +<p> +"Not more than that," assented the other, after +another look. "See for yourself, Miss Illingworth." +</p> + +<p> +From where they stood high up on the roof of the +world they were spectators of a great battle, witnesses +of a terrible contest, in which herculean effort, desperate +courage, human will, all exerted to the limit, finally +degenerated into blind, mechanical habit of continuous +and frenzied endeavor. The spirit of reckless continuance +had got into them and moved them to the impossible. +As men in a battle-charge go on even with wounds +enough to kill them in ordinary circumstances, as +soldiers at Winchester, though shot in the heart, actually +struggled after Sheridan until they fell, or even as a +common horse may so be imbued with blind intensity of +determination that he gallops on until he drops dead, +so these men gave their all in unmatchable persistence. +</p> + +<p> +"They'd better get off that dam," said Rodney. +"When it once fails it'll go with a rush and then it'll be +too late." +</p> + +<p> +"Look at them. They're not going to get off," said +Winters. "They're going down with it. Damned +fools, God bless 'em!" he shouted, throwing up his +arms in exultation over manhood and courage and +determination. +</p> + +<p> +"Perhaps you had better go back, Miss Illingworth," +said Rodney, thinking of the horror she might witness +at any moment. +</p> + +<p> +"I wouldn't be elsewhere for the world," said the +brave girl, white but with firm lips—she was made of +the same stuff as the fighting men, it seemed—"Even +if he were there, fighting that great battle, I should +wait to see the end." +</p> + +<p> +"We're not the only people in this wilderness. Look +yonder!" cried Winters. +</p> + +<p> +He pointed down through the ceaseless rain toward +the lower edge of the mesa. There far below him were +three sodden figures. The water in the lake had risen +so that it had overflowed the lowlands, it had flooded +the slope of the hill and on that side it was lapping the +base of the cliff. The trail had, of course, been covered +and there was no way of progress except by taking +advantage of the broken rock at the foot of the cliff, which +here and there still stood above the water. It was a +place apparently where men could only pass by carefully +choosing their way and calculating the distance +of the next point toward which to leap. +</p> + +<p> +These three were moving like madmen, splashing +through the water, hurling themselves from rock to rock, +falling against the wall, clutching a tree or shrub, +slipping into the lake, saving themselves from drowning +apparently only by the caprice of complacent fortune, +which they were trying to the utmost limit. They had +raincoats on; two of them, however, had lost their hats, +the light slicker of the last one was torn to rags; the +first stopped a moment, jerked off his coat, and went +on without it as if the stiff and sodden garment impeded +his action. +</p> + +<p> +One man carried a miner's pick, a spade and a +surveyor's range pole, the other another spade and two +long stakes which looked like the separate legs of a +tripod. The bareheaded man, who had thrown his rubber +coat down in the reddish-yellow water, carried a +good-sized oilskin bag. He was the most hurried of the three. +He ran some distance in front of the others. They +noticed how carefully he sought to protect the bag. +When he slipped or seemed about to fall he always +thrust it frantically away from the rock with +outstretched arm. +</p> + +<p> +What the three men would be at of course no one +knew. It was obvious that they were in a desperate +hurry and that the thing in the bag must be carefully +carried. Naturally the watchers connected the men +with the dam builders. They were dressed as the men +engaged in such labor would be dressed. The pick, the +spades, and the pole and stakes bore out that conclusion. +</p> + +<p> +"What's in the bag?" asked the woman. +</p> + +<p> +"He carries it as though it might be gold or +diamonds," said Winters. +</p> + +<p> +Rodney shook his head. Suddenly he divined the +reason for the extreme care with which the bag was +carried. The men were immediately below the three +watchers now. He could make out pretty well what +was the size and shape of the objects that bulged the +waterproof bag. +</p> + +<p> +"I have it," he shouted. "Dynamite." +</p> + +<p> +"What for?" +</p> + +<p> +Rodney shook his head again. The man in front was +in plain view. He was a tall figure, his face was heavily +bearded. From the angle at which they saw him it was +impossible for them to recognize him, nor was he in +his frantic progress assuming the usual attitude and +bearing of a man under ordinary conditions which +sometimes betray him to those who know him well. Nor +could Helen Illingworth with her trembling hands focus +the glass, which she took from Rodney before the +struggling adventurers had passed; and yet there was +something in the figure below that made her heart +beat faster. +</p> + +<p> +She pressed her hand to the wet garments over her +heart and stared. Suddenly Rodney raised his voice +and shouted at the very top of it. Winters joined in +and even Helen Illingworth found herself screaming. +The three men below were not more than five or six +hundred feet away, but evidently they could not possibly +hear in that tumult of nature. No voices would +carry through any such rain and wind. They were +too intent on their paths and on what they had to do +to look upward. They rounded the shoulder of the +mesa and disappeared in the pines at its feet. +</p> + +<p> +The three on the top looked at each other. +</p> + +<p> +"The dam still holds," said Rodney, quite +unsuspecting what was in the woman's heart. +</p> + +<p> +Even as he spoke Helen Illingworth turned away. +She ran heavily in her sodden garments along the +broken mesa top past the house to the upper edge. +There below her were the three men just emerging +from the fringe of trees. Rounding the end of the +mesa they had at last struck firmer ground. Helen +Illingworth could see them through the pines on the +old trail. The going was bad enough, but it was +nothing compared to what they had passed over and +presently they burst out of the woods and ran along +the greasy, well-rounded hog-back that divided the +valley from the ravine. +</p> + +<p> +The woman had no idea what was toward, what was +their purpose. She could only stare and stare at the +rapidly moving far-off figure indomitably in the lead +and the others following after. There Winters joined +her. +</p> + +<p> +"Rodney sent me to look after you; he feels that +he must stay back and watch the dam for his paper." +</p> + +<p> +"Look," said Helen, pointing far down. The men +halted at the very narrowest part of the hog-back. +They were clustered together. The bag lay on the +ground behind them. One man bent over it, evidently +opening it. Another man swung the shovel viciously, +the third grabbed the pick. Winters had been too far +removed from engineering even yet to figure out what +was toward. They could only watch and wonder. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap29"></a></p> + +<h3> +XXIX +<br><br> +THE VICTORS +</h3> + +<p> +Meade knew that they were fighting a losing +battle. Every one of the higher grade men +knew it also. The spill-way was entirely +inadequate, but it suddenly flashed into his mind, with +that consciousness of the hopelessness of the struggle, +that perhaps there was another way to discharge the +flood. The same idea might have come to any other +of the more intelligent of the men from Vandeventer +down if they had taken a moment for reflection. If +they had not been so frantically, so frightfully +engrossed in their present puny but gallant efforts to +save the dam they certainly would have remembered. +That the possibility came to Meade rather than to any +of the others was perhaps due to the fact that he had +noted the situation later and had studied the conditions +more recently. Those solitary rambles of his, those +careful inspections of the terrain of the valley, had +been made long after the original surveys and the +results of his observations were still fresh in his mind. +</p> + +<p> +The water was rising so rapidly since the cloudburst +and he saw the inevitableness of the failure so clearly +that he did not dare to waste time to look up Vandeventer, +tell him his plan and get his permission. Every +second was of the utmost value. When the thought +came he acted instantly. He was in the position of +the commander of a small force to whom is suddenly +presented the bare possibility of wresting victory from +defeat by some splendidly daring and unforeseen +undertaking. And he was the man to seize such a +possibility and make the most of it. +</p> + +<p> +It was well that he had endeared himself to some of +the men and that the respect in which he was held by +Vandeventer was shared by the others. Indeed perhaps +the men under a man are quicker to estimate his +character and worth than those over him. Therefore when +Meade called two of the most capable of the workmen, +a big, burly Irishman and a stout little Italian, to +follow him they did it without a moment's hesitation. +</p> + +<p> +"The rest of you keep on here," he shouted as he +left the gang. "Murphy and Funaro, come with me. +Keep it up; I think I know a way to help," he yelled +back through the rain as he scrambled off the dam up +the rocks to the spill-way. It was not his fault that +they could not hear and could not understand. +</p> + +<p> +The water was rushing through the spill-way about +knee deep and the three men plunging forward through +it had difficulty in keeping their footing on the broken, +rocky bottom. When they reached the other side, +Meade shouted above the storm: +</p> + +<p> +"Murphy, bring your pick and shovel; take that +iron range pole, too. Here, Funaro, you take your +shovel and these." +</p> + +<p> +As he spoke he ran into the office shack and wrecked +a transit tripod, ruthlessly separating the legs from +one another by main force and pitching two of them +into the little Italian's outstretched arms. +</p> + +<p> +Without a question both men complied with his direction. +In a huge crevice, almost a small cave, in the +spur of the mesa which overhung the east end of the +dam the explosives were stored. The dynamite was +kept in oilskin bags, the detonating caps in waterproof +boxes. There were sixteen sticks or cartridges in each +bag. Each stick was an inch and a half in diameter +and eight inches long. One bagful should be ample. +Indeed if that did not do the work the attempt would +fail. +</p> + +<p> +The men waited while Meade selected a bag of dynamite, +a box of detonators, and a package of fuses. It +was a cardinal rule that dynamite cartridges and +detonating caps should never be carried by the same +person, because the combination so greatly increased the +risk of premature explosion. The fulminate of mercury +in the detonators was very volatile, highly explosive +and immensely destructive considering its size. +One such cap could blow off a man's hand or even his +head and in its explosion might detonate the dynamite. +Hence the separation when being carried. +</p> + +<p> +Meade decided to take that risk. He knew how +perilous was the undertaking, how liable he was in his +hurry to fall against the rocks, slippery and half +submerged in that pouring rain. He knew what the +consequences of such a fall would be. He would center +all risks in himself. He thrust the box of detonators +in his pocket, the package of fuses inside his flannel +shirt, and carried the dynamite bag in his hand. He +would need his free hand to protect himself, so all +the tools were carried by the other men. +</p> + +<p> +The little Italian shook his head as he noted these +preparations. He happened to be one of the explosive +force, those whose duty it was to do the blasting. In +his practical way he knew a great deal about the +properties and possibilities of usefulness of the dynamite. +Meade's purpose was obvious even to Murphy, who was +only a laborer, though where he proposed to work +neither man had any idea at all. +</p> + +<p> +"Dynamita no work in zis weather," said Funaro +impressively. +</p> + +<p> +"Probably not," answered Meade, hurrying his +preparations, "but it's our only chance." +</p> + +<p> +"Give me ze caps," urged the Italian gallantly. +</p> + +<p> +"No, I'll take both." +</p> + +<p> +"It ees danger." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, but come on." +</p> + +<p> +Meade, wasting no more words, sprang at what was +left of the trail and the two men gallantly followed +him. The hog-back at which he was aiming was perhaps +a little more than two miles from the dam. On +the ordinary trail and prepared for the run he could +have managed it in fifteen minutes; as it was they made +it in thirty. The extreme possibility of the life of the +dam seemed to Meade not much greater. He went in +the lead and by his direction the others kept some +distance behind him. +</p> + +<p> +"If I fall and explode this dynamite there's no need +of all three of us being blown up," he had said, and it +was no reflection on their courage that they complied +with his direction. +</p> + +<p> +Indeed a stern command was necessary to keep the +two men back. They had caught something of the +gallant spirit of the engineer and the big Irishman and +the little Italian were as eager as he. Helped by a +few hasty words as they ran, they had both of them +learned what he would be at. They both realized that +they were the forlorn hope, that if they could not save +the dam nobody and nothing could. And there was a +trace of the age-long rivalry between the Celt and the +Roman. The scion of the legionary and the son of +the barbarian who had fought together in the dawn of +history vied with each other then. Again and again +Meade had to order them back. He was keenly sensible +of his danger. He knew that if he fell, if the dynamite +struck the ground violently, it might explode. He knew +that the unstable fulminate of mercury in the +detonators might go off at any time—perhaps that was the +greater danger—but he never checked his pace or +hesitated in a leap or sought an easy way for a second. +His soul was rising and his heart was beating as they +had never risen or beaten in his life. And the hearts +of his men beat with his own. +</p> + +<p> +He knew, of course, if the dam went out the railroad, +the bridge, the town, the citizens, the women and +children, and everything and everybody would go. If +he could save them his act might be set off against the +loss of the International. But whether that were true +or not, whatever the consequences to him, he was bound +to save them. The weight of every man, the weight of +every woman, the weight of every child in the valley, +the weight of all the business enterprises of the town, +the weight of the great viaduct of steel, the weight of +the huge dam itself, was on his shoulders as he ran. +He carried the burden lightly, as Atlas might have +upborne the world with laughter. For despite his +determination and haste he had in his heart the great joy +that comes when men attempt grandly and dare greatly +for their fellow-men. If he could only by and by see +his hopes justified by success his happiness would be +complete. +</p> + +<p> +And there were thoughts personal as well as general. +If he died, whether successful or not, men would tell +about his endeavor. She would hear. It came to him +afterward, when he learned how she had looked down +upon him as he ran, that he had somehow felt her +presence, not a presence impelling him to look up, but a +presence driving him on. He lost his hat, he tore off +his long coat and threw it aside as he plunged on with +his precious bag in his hand. He did not dare to look +at his watch, he did not stop for anything, but it +seemed that he must have spent hours in that mad +scramble over the water-covered rocks. He heaved a +deep breath of relief when he rounded the mesa and +struck the trail. Bad as was the going, it was nothing +to what they had passed over. +</p> + +<p> +Presently he broke out into the open slope and there +before him was the rounded curve of the hog-back, to +gain which he had risked so much. Were they in time? +Yes, the water in the lake was not flowing, it was only +rising. Evidently the dam still held. He ran along +it till he reached the narrowest part of it, twenty feet +wide between water-covered valley and sharply +descending ravine. The shortest separation between +Picket Wire and the Kicking Horse! The water in +the lake was within three feet of the crest. The rain +was coming down steadily. He could realize by the +water level where he stood that it must be lapping the +top of the dam now, or a little above it. He had five +minutes, ten at most. He was still in time. The +thoughts came to him as he ran. And as he saw the +place again he made his instant plan. +</p> + +<p> +He laid the dynamite down just as Murphy and +Funaro reached him and stood panting, their heavy +breathing, the sweat mingling with the rain in their +wet faces, evidencing their exhaustion. From Murphy, +who had been the faster, Meade took the two tripod +legs, stout oak staves about an inch and a half thick +with sharp metal points. He jammed them down into +the ground about five feet from the edge of the +Kicking Horse ravine and about fifteen feet apart. +</p> + +<p> +"Holes, there," he shouted, "deep enough for five +cartridges." +</p> + +<p> +Funaro nodded. He knew exactly what to do. Murphy +had often seen the explosive gang at work. He +was quick-witted and he had only to follow the Italian's +actions. The work was simple. Seizing their spades +the two men cut into the sod, using the pick to dislodge +small bowlders and break up the earth. The soil was +light and porous and it had been well soaked by the +rain. After they had made an excavation about two +feet deep they laid aside their shovels and with the iron +range pole as a starter and the bigger tripod stakes +to follow they made two deep holes in the ground, +forcing the pole and then the stake into the earth, which +the continuing rain tended to soften more and more. +They made these holes about four feet deep below the +excavation, driving in and twisting and churning the +stakes by main strength. +</p> + +<p> +They could by no means have accomplished this save +for the softening assistance of the rain and the furious +energy they applied. They had been working since +four in the morning at the dam, they had made that +difficult run at headlong speed, yet they labored like +men possessed. They even wasted breath to call +challengingly and provokingly and to set forth their +progress each to the other. In almost less time than it +takes to tell it they had completed the holes and so +informed the engineer triumphantly. +</p> + +<p> +Meade, as usual, had reserved to himself the more +dangerous, if less arduous task. Covering himself with +big Murphy's discarded slicker, which fell over him +like a shelter tent as he knelt down, he opened the box +of detonators, selected one and attached the fuse in +position carefully. Then he unfolded the paper about +one of the cartridges and placed the detonator, +wrapping the paper around it thereafter. He prepared +two cartridges this way with the greatest care. +</p> + +<p> +The holes now being ready, the men rapidly but +carefully cut slits in the covering of the cartridges +and lowered four cartridges down each hole, forcing +them gently into place with the butt ends of the tripod +stakes and compressing them so that they filled the +holes completely. Then Meade placed his two prepared +sticks with the detonators on top of the other four. He +cut the fuse to the proper length in each case and, +keeping it carefully covered with the raincoat, he held +it while the others filled in the holes and the +excavations and carefully tamped down the earth. All that +remained was the lighting of the fuse. And then? +Would the dynamite go off? With fuses it was +uncertain in its action at best, and although these fuses +were supposed to be so prepared as to be independent +of weather conditions, more often than not rain spoiled +a blast. If this blast failed it was good-by +dam—good-by everything. +</p> + +<p> +Meade drew out from the pocket of his flannel shirt +a box of matches. He had to light the farther +cartridge fuse, then run fifteen feet and light the nearer +one, and then make his escape. He had made the nearer +fuse a little shorter so as to secure a simultaneous +explosion if possible. +</p> + +<p> +Tony Funaro now interposed gallantly. +</p> + +<p> +"Giva me da light," he demanded, extending his hand. +</p> + +<p> +"G'wan wid ye," shouted the big Irishman eagerly; +"lemme do it, sor." +</p> + +<p> +"Stand back, both of you," cried Meade, succeeding +after some trouble in striking a match. +</p> + +<p> +He had cut off a short length fuse for a torch, the +better to carry the fire from one blast to another. As +it sputtered into flame he touched the first fuse, then +the second and turned and ran for his life after Murphy +and Funaro. They had just got a safe distance +away when with a muffled roar the two blasts went off +nearly together. When they ran back they saw that +two-thirds of the hillock on that side of the ravine had +gone. A wall of earth through which water was already +trickling rose between the great gap they had blown +out and the lake, the upper level of which was much +higher than the bottom of the great crater they had +opened. +</p> + +<p> +"Hurrah," yelled Meade, the others joining in his +triumphant shout. "Now, men, another hole right +there," he pointed to the foot of the bank. "Drive +it in slanting and it will do the job." +</p> + +<p> +"Will the dam be after holdin' yit, sor?" asked Mike +Murphy, seizing his pick. +</p> + +<p> +"I hope so, but for God's sake, hurry." +</p> + +<p> +With two men working the last hole was completed +before Meade was ready. Funaro, indeed, came to his +assistance in preparing the cartridge. Presently all +was completed. Rejecting the pleas of both men, +Meade struck the match and this time, since there was +but one blast to be fired, he touched it directly to the +fuse and waited a second to see that it had caught and +ran as before. +</p> + +<p> +At a safe distance they drew back and waited. +Nothing happened. A few seconds dragged on. They +saw no sign of life in the fuse, no light. In spite of +the care they had taken it had got wet. It would not +work. The precious moments were flying. They +stared agonizingly at the fuse through the rain. +</p> + +<p> +"I'll have to take a look at it," said Meade desperately. +</p> + +<p> +Funaro and Murphy caught him by the arms. They +all knew the tremendous risk in a nearer approach. +The fuse might be alight still. At any second the +flame might flash to the detonator and then—— Yet +Meade had to go. That charge had to be exploded if +he detonated it by hand, he thought desperately, and +he had not come so far and worked so hard to fail now. +</p> + +<p> +"Don't go," cried Murphy. +</p> + +<p> +"It ees danger," shouted Funaro. +</p> + +<p> +But Meade shook them off and bade them keep back. +What was his danger compared to the issue involved? +That last charge had to be exploded. He stepped +quickly toward it and as he did so he threw his eyes +up toward the gray, rain-filled heaven in one last +appeal. +</p> + +<p> +Did he hear the blind roar, did he see the upbursting +masses of sodden earth, was he conscious of the fact +that the whole side of the hillock had been blown away, +that the last explosion had completed the shattering +work of the first, that they had succeeded? Did he +mark the whirling water, driven backward at first by +the violence of the explosion, returning and rolling in +vast mass through the great opening, did he see it +plunging down the slope, through the trees and bushes, +and pour thunderously into the bed of the ravine? +Did he see the tremendous rush of the water from the +great lake that man had created tear earth from earth +and ever widen and deepen the opening as it crashed +in a foaming, terrible, red cataract through the outlet, +striking down great trees, roaring, boiling wildly to +the bottom of the gorge far below? +</p> + +<p> +No, he saw nothing. Broken, beaten down by a +huge bowlder that had been thrown upward by the +explosion and had struck him on the breast, and lying +battered under a rain of smaller stones and earth, he +was as one dead. +</p> + +<p> +"By God," cried Winters in great excitement on the +crest of the hill, "he's done it. He's saved the dam; +that's a man." +</p> + +<p> +"Don't you know him?" screamed Miss Illingworth +in his ear. +</p> + +<p> +"No." +</p> + +<p> +"Meade!" +</p> + +<p> +Winters caught her by the arm. +</p> + +<p> +"He's dead," she cried high and shrill, "but he +saved the dam and the bridge and the town. He's made +atonement." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, yes, don't faint," cried Winters. +</p> + +<p> +"Faint! I'm going to him." +</p> + +<p> +"How?" +</p> + +<p> +"The nearest way," screamed the woman, letting +herself down over the cliff wall to the broken rocks, by +which only the hardy could reach the lower level. +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * +</p> + +<p> +What of the dam below in the valley? +</p> + +<p> +"Hold it, men, hold it; for God's sake, hold it," +shouted Vandeventer, rising from his crouching position +against the palisade to resume it instantly he had +spoken. "Keep it up. If it goes down let's go down +with it. Damn it to hell, hang on—hang on! We'll +hold it. We aren't beat yet." +</p> + +<p> +Broken words, oaths, protestations, curses, cheers, +expletives in strange languages from the polyglot mob +of men burst forth. Even cowards had been turned into +heroes because they had fought by the side of men. +Here and there a man not weaker physically perhaps, +but less resolute, less spiritually consecrated, less +divinely obsessed, dropped out of the rank that pitted +itself in furious, futile, but sublime fury against the +wavering wall. Some of them fell backward and lay +still. Some had fainted and some of them were half +dead. A few here and there sank down on the +trampled, muddy embankment and buried their heads in +their hands, sobbing hysterically. But most still blind, +mad, sublime, held on. And the palisade did not fall. +It did not bend back any further. +</p> + +<p> +The throb that told of the tremendous pressure of +the waves, the quiver that experience could feel the +prelude to failure, began to die away, to stop. What +did it mean? The thunder grew still, the rain +diminished, it ceased, the clouds broke. Some great hand, +as of God, swiftly tore the black vault of the heavens +apart. Faint light began to glow over the sodden land. +Through the rift they saw dimly one great peak of +mighty range. What had happened? +</p> + +<p> +"Here," said Vandeventer. +</p> + +<p> +How white he looked, how haggard, streaks of gray +in his black hair that had not been there before, but his +eyes were blazing. He was still the indomitable chief +of the Spartan band. The nearest men gave him a +hand. He clambered up to his former vantage point +on top of the highest log of the stockade and stared +down. The rise of the water had stopped! He could +not believe it, yet it was true. The rain had ceased +again, but by every natural law the drainage from the +hills would continue for some time in full volume. Yes, +by all rights the dam was doomed. The water still +trickled through the palisades in many small streams. +That had been a gallant effort they had made, even if +a vain one. +</p> + +<p> +For ten minutes he stood silent, exhausted. Then he +saw. The water was not rising. No, it was falling; only +a trifle, but enough. Presently it had stopped filtering +through the revetment. He looked back. Not a drop +ran on the other side of the palisade. Vandeventer +knew that the water must be discharging somewhere. +The lake must have broken through somewhere. He +only needed that hint to recall the hog-back and then +Meade. He saw it all now. +</p> + +<p> +"We've won, the dam's saved," he cried greatly to +the men who stood back of the palisade staring at him. +"Roberts has blown up the hog-back. The water's +falling. See for yourselves." +</p> + +<p> +Every man sprang up the palisade. Some one +laughed and then some one raised a cheer and those +mud-covered, sodden, wornout men, who had been about +to die, saluted in heroic acclaim him who had led them +to victory and by implication him who had made that +triumph possible. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap30"></a></p> + +<h3> +XXX +<br><br> +THE TESTIMONY OF THE DEAD +</h3> + +<p> +Just as Helen Illingworth and Winters reached +the lower level at the foot of the mesa they were +joined by Rodney. +</p> + +<p> +"What has happened?" cried the engineer. +</p> + +<p> +Winters answered as the three hurried along without +stopping: +</p> + +<p> +"Meade blew up the hog-back." +</p> + +<p> +"Was that he?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes." +</p> + +<p> +"I thought there was something familiar about him, +but I did not dare——" +</p> + +<p> +"I recognized him instantly," said Helen Illingworth. +</p> + +<p> +"That atones for the International," continued Rodney. +</p> + +<p> +"What does?" asked his friend. +</p> + +<p> +"The dam is safe; the water has stopped rising. I +believe it's beginning to fall a little. I saw someone +jump up on the palisade and wave his hand and then +I saw them all gather around, evidently cheering." +</p> + +<p> +"I should think the water would be lowered," said +Winters; "it's pouring out of a hole in the hog-back +as big as a church." +</p> + +<p> +"It was a fine thing in Meade. Let's hurry and tell +him so," answered Rodney. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm afraid it's too late," said Winters. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, don't say that," cried the girl. +</p> + +<p> +"Why, what's happened?" +</p> + +<p> +"The second blast was slow in going off," said +Winters; "he went back to look at it and got knocked +over. It looked pretty bad from the top of the mesa." +</p> + +<p> +Rodney would not have been human if he had not +felt a leap in his breast at the possibility, but he was +too loyal a friend and too genuinely fond of Meade +for more than a passing emotion, for which he was +more than a little ashamed. +</p> + +<p> +"Let us press on," he urged. +</p> + +<p> +In a few moments they stopped by the three men. +Meade was still unconscious. The big Irishman sat on +the grass with the engineer's head on his knee. The +deft-fingered little Italian was trying to wash the blood +away from the unconscious man's forehead with a +sodden, ragged piece of cloth. Meade was unconscious, +he was breathing heavily. There was a catch in his +respiration. His breath came at irregular intervals +and was labored as if painful. +</p> + +<p> +A huge rock had struck him in the breast. The two +men had torn open his shirt and undershirt. The +engineer's chest was bruised and bloody. Evidently bones +had been broken and probably serious internal injuries +had resulted. Every breath was an apparent agony +and that the exquisite pain did not arouse him to +consciousness was evidence of the terrible nature of the +injury. A smaller, sharper rock had cut him across +the forehead and cheek, just missing his right eye, and +they found out afterward that he had been struck by +several other pieces dislodged by the explosion, and +that his body was covered with bruises. +</p> + +<p> +But there was nothing, not even in the cut on the +forehead, to cause any great alarm had it not been for +the crushed chest. Winters and Rodney were both +men of action, accustomed to quick thinking and prompt +decision in emergencies; while Helen Illingworth could +only stand with clenched hands staring in mental +anguish that paralleled the physical suffering of the +man she loved, the engineer and the rancher immediately +made preparations to get the wounded man to +the car. +</p> + +<p> +Murphy wore in his belt a short woodman's axe. +With it they cut down two young saplings, trimmed +them and thrusting them through the sleeves of their +raincoats they made a fairly practicable litter. Using +the utmost care, they laid the unconscious man upon it +and Winters and Murphy, the two biggest men, took +the handles at either end. Helen Illingworth, praying +as she had never prayed before, sought to support the +unconscious man's head. The Italian gathered up the +tools and went ahead to open up the path. Rodney +followed after. +</p> + +<p> +Their progress was slow of necessity. They had +to handle Meade with great care. Winters and Rodney, +after the brief inspection they had made, could not see +a chance on earth for him. Neither could Helen +Illingworth. They went along without conversation, +naturally, except for an outburst of admiration from +Winters. +</p> + +<p> +"I tell you," he said, "it was a magnificent thing +for him to do. He risked his life a hundred times in +that mad rush with the dynamite in his hands and the +detonators in his pocket. Yet if he had only stayed +back he would have been safe." +</p> + +<p> +"It was his anxiety for the dam and the people that +brought him down," said Helen Illingworth. "He can't +die," she murmured. "God surely will not let him die. +I love him so. And yet if he does and I have lost him, +innocent or guilty, he has redeemed his fame." +</p> + +<p> +"He saved others," quoted Rodney under his breath, +"himself he could not save." +</p> + +<p> +It was a work of great difficulty to get the wounded +engineer into the car, but they finally managed it. +By the woman's direction they laid him on her bed in +her own private stateroom. +</p> + +<p> +"One of us must go for a doctor at once," said +Rodney, "and that will be my job." +</p> + +<p> +"It's twenty miles to the town," said the conductor, +who had helped to receive them. "If one of you could +telegraph we could tap a wire." +</p> + +<p> +None of them could. +</p> + +<p> +"It's all down-grade and there's a good roadbed +and I was some sprinter in my college days," said +Rodney. +</p> + +<p> +"And there was never greater need for haste than +now," said Winters. "I wish I had a horse here." +</p> + +<p> +"Don't give up, Miss Illingworth," continued Rodney, +as he started toward the door. "He's alive yet." +</p> + +<p> +Just then, opportunely enough, rounding the last +curve before the arch bridge, they saw the end of the +other car rapidly approaching them. Had they not +been so excited they could have heard the furious puffing +of the engine as it drove the car at great speed up +the heavy grade. +</p> + +<p> +"Wait," said the conductor, "we can send the engine +down for the doctor. That'll be the Colonel's +car." +</p> + +<p> +In a few minutes the car stopped on the siding. Out +of it came Colonel Illingworth, Dr. Severence, Curtiss, +and some of the officials of the Bridge Company in +town. They were all greatly excited. The Colonel did +not stop to put on his hat. He ran to the other car +and climbed aboard. +</p> + +<p> +"The dam's going," he shouted. "The bridge and +the town will be flooded. We got word an hour ago +by a messenger galloping down. The telephone wires +are down. I ran the car up here as the quickest way +to get over to the reservoir and the dam. Some of +you who know the way come with me." +</p> + +<p> +By this time the observation room of the car was +filled with men. +</p> + +<p> +"You need not worry about the dam," said Rodney. +</p> + +<p> +"What do you mean?" +</p> + +<p> +"A man blew up the hog-back, made a spill-way, the +water rushed out through it into this ravine, you can +see it below there, relieving the pressure on the dam +at once. Since it has held up till now it will hold for +good." +</p> + +<p> +"Thank God!" cried the Colonel, sinking down into +a chair and wiping the sweat off his brow. "The +bridge will be safe then. By George," he gasped, "the +Martlet Company could hardly have stood another loss +like that. Who's the man who blew it up?" +</p> + +<p> +"His name is Meade," said Rodney quietly. +</p> + +<p> +"Not——?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes." +</p> + +<p> +There was a long pause. Every man there knew of +the failure of the International and in what estimation +the old Colonel held the name of Meade because of +that. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, it was a fine thing," said the Colonel; "it +makes up for his blundering work on the bridge." +</p> + +<p> +"Beg pardon, sir," said Shurtliff, who had stood +wide-eyed and white and suffering in silence ever since +the engineer had been brought to the car, "it was not +his blunder." +</p> + +<p> +"Why, you said so yourself," cried the Colonel. +</p> + +<p> +"I lied," admitted the secretary. +</p> + +<p> +Quick as a flash Rodney had his notebook out. +Here was the proof at last. +</p> + +<p> +"Why?" +</p> + +<p> +"To save the reputation of the man I loved." +</p> + +<p> +"And how do I know you are not lying for this man +now?" asked the Colonel harshly. +</p> + +<p> +"These will prove it," said Shurtliff, extending +some papers he drew out of his pocket, where he had +placed them that morning half intending to tell Helen +Illingworth the truth at last. +</p> + +<p> +"What are these?" the Colonel asked, staring at +Shurtliff, who stood erect before them, sustained more +by his will than anything else, for his knees were +shaking and his body quivering; yet he was glad after all, +more happy than he had thought he could be, in +making the revelation, in vindicating the innocent, in +giving that satisfaction to Helen Illingworth, tardy, even +too late, though it might be. +</p> + +<p> +"Letters, sir. You will find there a blueprint of +the design of the compression members," answered +Shurtliff monotonously as if he had forced his mind +to a certain action and it was working automatically. +"With it is a letter from Bertram Meade to his father +suggesting that the lacings were too light and calling +attention to the empiric formulæ of Schmidt-Chemnitz +in proof of his argument. On the back of that letter +Mr. Bertram Meade, Senior, made an indorsement—you +know his handwriting and can identify it—'<i>Hold +until bridge is finished and then give back to the boy. +We'll show him that even Schmidt-Chemnitz doesn't +know everything</i>.'" +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Illingworth turned the paper over. There +was the indorsement. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, by heaven!" he began. +</p> + +<p> +"There's another paper in an envelope addressed +to the editor of <i>The New York Gazette</i>. Will you +read it aloud, sir?" +</p> + +<p> +Almost as if he had been hypnotized Colonel Illingworth +took from the envelope the brief note. He +read it: +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +"<i>I alone am responsible for the error in the design +of the International Bridge, which has resulted in this +terrible disaster. I know that my son, in an effort to +shield me, will assume the responsibility. As a matter +of fact, he had previously pointed out what he believed +to be a structural weakness, but I refused to heed his +representations and overbore his objections. The fault +is entirely chargeable to me. There is no possible +expiation for my blunder. The least I can do is to assume +all the responsibility. The blame is mine.</i> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +"BERTRAM MEADE." +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +He laid it down with the other papers. +</p> + +<p> +"The demonstration is complete and absolute," he +began spontaneously, amid a breathless silence. "The +proofs are adequate. They would establish young +Meade's innocence in any court in the land. Where is +he? I have done him an injustice. I am ready to make +amends," continued the Colonel. +</p> + +<p> +"And while you are talking," said Helen Illingworth, +who had been standing in the doorway too absorbed +by the dramatic recital to interrupt it, "he's +dying." +</p> + +<p> +"Dying! Where?" +</p> + +<p> +"He was battered to pieces by the last dynamite +explosion. We brought him here." +</p> + +<p> +"Were you there?" +</p> + +<p> +"We saw it from the top of the mesa. Oh, don't +talk any longer." +</p> + +<p> +"Severence," said Illingworth, with prompt decision, +"you haven't forgotten all your old medical skill. +This is your job. One of you jump on the engine and +bring a physician up and——" +</p> + +<p> +"I'm going," said Rodney. "Who's the best doctor +in town?" +</p> + +<p> +"Dr. Fraser. He's a young man, but very skillful," +answered one of the local bridge men. +</p> + +<p> +"Bring our own Dr. Bailey up here from our hospital +with him, and tell that engine driver to get down +to the town and back just as quickly as he can go. +Cheer up, Helen," said the Colonel. "I know that a +man is not going to rehabilitate himself by such an +action and have the evidence of his innocence brought +out at such a moment just to die." +</p> + +<p> +"Will you give me those papers, Colonel?" said +Rodney. "You'll want this written up and——" +</p> + +<p> +"Take them," said the Colonel. +</p> + +<p> +"Will you come along with me, Mr. Shurtliff? +After I see the doctors I'll want your affidavit." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, sir, anything," said Shurtliff. +</p> + +<p> +"It was fine of you, Shurtliff," said Winters, "to +try to shield your employer and the man you loved, +but, thank God, you spoke out before it was too late. +I'm sorry I pulled that gun on you; you're a man, all +right, even if you don't look it," he added to himself +as Shurtliff bowed and followed Rodney. +</p> + +<p> +Winters stood at the door of the passageway leading +to the stateroom while Helen Illingworth and +Severence, who had been educated as a physician, and the +old Colonel, who knew a great deal about wounds and +accidents from his war experience, entered the +stateroom. A new spirit had come into the relations +between father and daughter and both were glad. There +was no question now about the future. There would +be no opposition from Colonel Illingworth. Within +an hour the papers would have the story of how one +man had saved a great dam, the viaduct, the town, and +its people, and they would have at the same time the +story of who was responsible for the fall of the +International Bridge. They would have the story of the +attempted self-sacrifice of the son to save the father. +They would have the story of the old man's splendid +and magnanimous avowal of responsibility before he +died. The United States, the world, would ring with +the dramatic tale. +</p> + +<p> +It was as much to tell that story in his own way as +to summon medical aid that Rodney had gone for the +doctor. And so the father held the daughter clasped +to his side while both bent over the still unconscious +man, whom Dr. Severence quickly and carefully and +with wonderful skill, considering his long withdrawal +from practice, examined. +</p> + +<p> +"What is it?" asked the Colonel as the vice-president +looked up presently. "My daughter is engaged +to be married to him"—and he was rewarded by the +thrill and quiver that shot through his daughter's being +which he felt as he pressed her to his side—"we can't +let him die now." +</p> + +<p> +"He's in God's hands," answered Severence gravely. +"He's been terribly pounded everywhere. His breastbone +is shattered, some of his ribs are broken. I don't +know." +</p> + +<p> +"That awful cut on his forehead?" +</p> + +<p> +"That's nothing." +</p> + +<p> +"And the other bruises?" +</p> + +<p> +"They count but little, but the blow on the chest"—he +shook his gray head sadly, ominously. +</p> + +<p> +"Do you think anything has penetrated his lungs?" +asked Helen Illingworth, as she pointed to her lover's +lips, to a little bloody froth that came therefrom. +</p> + +<p> +The old man nodded. +</p> + +<p> +"Perhaps," he said. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, he can't die, he can't, he can't!" wailed the +woman, sinking down on her knees by the bed. +</p> + +<p> +"Not if any power on earth can keep him from it, +my dear child," said the old Colonel tenderly, bending +over her. +</p> + +<p> +"Send me the porter of the car," said Severence, +"and take Miss Illingworth away. I want to get him +undressed and——" +</p> + +<p> +"You will call me back the minute I can come?" +</p> + +<p> +"Certainly, my dear girl," said the vice-president, +who had known the young woman from childhood. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap31"></a></p> + +<h3> +XXXI +<br><br> +AT LAST TO THE STARS +</h3> + +<p> +All the men except Curtiss and Winters had +discreetly withdrawn from the car and had gone +over to the mesa to look at the lake and the +outlet. Indeed the water was roaring down beneath +the steel arch bridge, filling for the first time in +generations the channel of the Kicking Horse. Fortunately +it could flow that way without danger to the town or +the viaduct below. +</p> + +<p> +The Colonel led his daughter to a chair and then +turned to Winters. +</p> + +<p> +"You were there?" he began. "Tell me about it." +</p> + +<p> +Graphically the big cattle rancher told the story of +Meade's mad rush over the rocks with his two +companions, of the desperate assault on the hog-back, of +the success that had met their efforts to open the +improvised spill-way, and then the final disaster. The +recital lost nothing in his graphic relation. +</p> + +<p> +"It was fine, it was magnificent," said the Colonel, +patting his daughter's shoulder. "Where are the two +who went with him?" +</p> + +<p> +"They're outside there," said Winters. +</p> + +<p> +The old Colonel went to the door of the car and +called the two men into the car. +</p> + +<p> +"In the bank down in Coronado there's a thousand +dollars of mine for each of you," he said promptly. +</p> + +<p> +"We didn't do it for money, sor," said the big +Irishman, "although 'twill be welcome enough, but how +is Mr. Roberts?" +</p> + +<p> +"You mean the man who blew up the hog-back?" +</p> + +<p> +"Si, signore, a greata man he ees," said the little +Italian. +</p> + +<p> +"I wish I could say he was all right, but there's a +doctor with him and we have sent for the best +physicians in town. He's horribly hurt." +</p> + +<p> +"But, plaise God, he may pull through, sor. The +Holy Virgin an' the Saints presarve him," said the +Irishman, making the sign of the cross. +</p> + +<p> +And in his own language little Funaro breathed a +similar prayer and with his grimy, toil-stained hand he +made the same gesture. +</p> + +<p> +"Murphy," shouted a voice from the pines on the +side of the hill between the car and the mesa. +</p> + +<p> +"That'll be Mr. Vandeventer, the resident engineer," +said Murphy. +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Illingworth turned to the door again. +</p> + +<p> +"Where's Roberts?" cried Vandeventer, stumbling +down the hill. He was haggard and worn and weary +to the point of exhaustion, but as soon as he had been +assured of the safety of the dam—and before he left +the water was visibly receding—he had started out to +seek the engineer whom he had, in his mind in the +excitement of the moment, accused of desertion. +</p> + +<p> +"He's here in my car, sir," said Colonel Illingworth. +</p> + +<p> +"And who are you, may I ask?" said Vandeventer, +crossing the track and swinging himself upon the +platform of the car. +</p> + +<p> +"I am Colonel Illingworth, president of the Martlet +Bridge Company." +</p> + +<p> +"But Roberts?" +</p> + +<p> +"His name is not Roberts. It's Meade." +</p> + +<p> +"What? The International man?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes." +</p> + +<p> +"I knew he was an engineer. Well, he's made up +for his failure there." +</p> + +<p> +"He did not fail there any more than he failed +here," said the Colonel. +</p> + +<p> +"Where is he?" +</p> + +<p> +"It's a long story." +</p> + +<p> +"It can wait," said Vandeventer brusquely. "I +want to thank him for saving the dam and the lives of +the men on it, and the town, and the railroad, and the +bridge." +</p> + +<p> +"I don't know whether you can thank him or not," +said the Colonel. +</p> + +<p> +"You don't mean——" +</p> + +<p> +"He was terribly hurt by the last explosion and they +brought him here." +</p> + +<p> +"Can I see him?" +</p> + +<p> +For answer Colonel Illingworth pointed to the door. +</p> + +<p> +"This is my daughter. Your name is Vandeventer, +is it not? Helen, this is the engineer who is building +the dam. He has come to ask after his man." +</p> + +<p> +"I've done everything I can for him," said Severence, +coming out of the stateroom, followed by the +porter, as Vandeventer shook hands with the girl. +"He's still unconscious, but seems to breathe a little +easier." +</p> + +<p> +Into the little room the woman and the four men +crowded. Vandeventer, accompanied by Murphy and +Funaro, followed the Colonel. Neither of the workmen +would be left out. There lay the engineer, his face as +white as the linen of the pillow or the bandage which +had been deftly tied around his head. One hand, still +grimy and mud-stained, lay on the sheet. Helen Illingworth +knelt down and kissed it and laid her head on the +bed. +</p> + +<p> +"He is to be my husband if he lives," she said simply. +</p> + +<p> +"A man and an engineer he is," whispered Vandeventer. +</p> + +<p> +"I misjudged you, Meade," said the Colonel softly, +speaking as if the unconscious man could hear. "I +condemned you. I wish to heaven you could hear me +make amends now." +</p> + +<p> +"Begob," whispered Murphy, "you'd ought to seen +him run wid the dinnamite." +</p> + +<p> +The voice of the Italian murmured words which they +knew were prayers and though they came from humble +lips they brought relief to all. They entered deeply +into Helen Illingworth's heart and mingled with her +own petitions, frantic, fervent, imperative, although +she offered them to Almighty God as from a woman +broken. Presently they all filed out of the room, +leaving Helen Illingworth alone with what was left of life +in the crushed body of the man she had never loved so +much before. +</p> + +<p> +In the observation room Vandeventer told them of +the fight for the dam and how they had reached their +maximum power of resistance and more, and that the +relief came in the very nick of time. Meanwhile the +engine driver had burned up the track going and +coming and in less than an hour he was back with two +surgeons and a trained nurse. Was it their skill and care +and watchfulness that finally brought Meade back to +consciousness, or was it the passionate, consuming +intensity of will and purpose of the woman who loved +him, who could scarcely be driven from his side? Well, +whatever the reason, after many days he passed from +death into life and came back again. +</p> + +<p> +He was conscious of Helen's presence and lay quietly +enveloped in her love long before he could talk +coherently or question. Indeed, with Rodney and Winters, +and old Shurtliff, who swore to himself that he would +never forgive himself if Meade did not recover, and the +Colonel, and Vandeventer, and all the men of the force, +who used to stroll over after hours and just sit on the +side of the track and stare at the car where the man +who had saved them was fighting for his life as +desperately as they had fought to save the dam, Meade +was surrounded by such an atmosphere of admiration +and devotion as might have stayed the hand of death +itself. There came a day when the physician said he +could talk a little. +</p> + +<p> +"I saw you," Helen whispered. "I was standing +on the high hill watching, looking down upon you just +before——" +</p> + +<p> +"But I shall look up to you all the rest of my life," +said the man, as the woman knelt, as was her wont, by +the side of the bed. She kissed his hand, thin, wasted, +but white and clean now. +</p> + +<p> +"No, I to you," she murmured, as she pressed her +lips to his fingers. +</p> + +<p> +"Look up a little higher, then," whispered Meade +with some of the old humor. +</p> + +<p> +"You mean?" +</p> + +<p> +The voiceless movement of his lips told her the story. +She raised herself and kissed them lightly. +</p> + +<p> +"I haven't dared to ask that before," said the man, +closing his eyes. "I wasn't strong enough to stand +that." +</p> + +<p> +"But you're going to get strong; you must. I'd +like to kiss you forever," said the woman with pitying +tenderness and great joy. +</p> + +<p> +"It's heavenly now, but I shall have to go away +again when I am able and——" +</p> + +<p> +"We are never going to be parted again." +</p> + +<p> +"I cannot let you marry a discredited man, a +failure." +</p> + +<p> +"Don't you know," said the woman, rising, "that +the whole United States rings with your exploit, that +the splendid saving of the dam has caught the fancy of +the people as it deserves and you are a hero everywhere +and to everybody?" +</p> + +<p> +"But the International Bridge and its failure?" +</p> + +<p> +Unbeknown to the two the Colonel had stopped in +the doorway. +</p> + +<p> +"We know the truth now, my boy," said the old +man, coming into the room. "It was your father's +fault, not yours." +</p> + +<p> +It was characteristic of Meade's temper and temperament +that his white lips closed in a straight line at +this. +</p> + +<p> +"Where's Shurtliff?" he asked, after a little silent +communing with himself. +</p> + +<p> +The old man had come in and out of the room like +a ghost during his slow recovery. Colonel Illingworth +turned away and summoned the secretary. Rodney +and Winters came, too. +</p> + +<p> +"Shurtliff," said Meade faintly but firmly, "tell +them again who is responsible for the failure of the +International." +</p> + +<p> +"Forgive me, Mr. Meade," said Shurtliff, "but it +was your brave old father's fault." +</p> + +<p> +"You see," said the Colonel. +</p> + +<p> +"We knew it all the time," said Rodney. +</p> + +<p> +"But Mr. Shurtliff bravely gave us the final proof," +said Winters. +</p> + +<p> +"Those papers?" said Meade. +</p> + +<p> +Shurtliff nodded. +</p> + +<p> +"And your father's own letter that he wrote the +papers before his heart broke," said Rodney; "I'll +read it to you presently." +</p> + +<p> +"Why did you do it, Shurtliff?" +</p> + +<p> +"To right a great wrong, sir. I saw that we were +mistaken to try to spare the dead at the expense of the +living, to wreck your life and the future, and the +happiness of Miss Illingworth. God bless her for her +kindness to a lonely old man. And so when you were +brought here dead I told them the truth and gave them +the papers." +</p> + +<p> +"Gentlemen," said Meade, making a last try, "it +is useless to deny it now, but for the sake of my father's +fame you won't let anyone know?" +</p> + +<p> +"Old man," said Rodney, "it was on the wires an +hour afterward and the whole United States knows it +now. Your father made the mistake; his letter +admitted it bravely. The world honors him, it honors +you." +</p> + +<p> +"Rodney," said Meade, "I wish you hadn't done it." +</p> + +<p> +"It was for Miss Illingworth's happiness and yours +that I did it," said Rodney. "And how much that cost +me," he added, the confession being wrung from him, +"no one can ever know." +</p> + +<p> +He turned and left the room. Winters followed him +full of sympathy and comprehension. +</p> + +<p> +"Let me go out alone, old man," said Rodney. "I'll +be back presently. This is the last fight I've got to +make." +</p> + +<p> +Winters watched him from the steps of the car as +he disappeared in the pine trees <i>en route</i> to the mesa +to fight it out under the open sky alone. The others +left the room also, last of all Shurtliff. +</p> + +<p> +"You forgive me, Mr. Meade. I've been through +hell itself," said the old man, "in these last six +months." +</p> + +<p> +"Freely," said Meade. +</p> + +<p> +And Shurtliff went away with a lighter heart than +he had borne for many a long day. +</p> + +<p> +The two lovers were alone again. +</p> + +<p> +"You see," said Helen, "there's nothing can keep +us apart now." +</p> + +<p> +"Nothing, thank God," whispered the man. +"But I am sorry that it all came out this way. +I'm sorry not only because of your suffering, but for +other reasons—Rodney for one. He—it's too bad! It +was not necessary for you to get yourself almost killed +to win me, I mean, for wherever and whenever I found +you I was resolved to marry you, willy-nilly." +</p> + +<p> +"And is it true that poor old Rod had grown to +care?" he asked, putting by the academic discussion. +</p> + +<p> +The woman nodded. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm very sorry. I can't help it. We were always +together, talking about you," she said. +</p> + +<p> +"And he couldn't help it, either," said Meade. +"Somehow I believe he was the better man for you to +have taken." +</p> + +<p> +But he looked at her wistfully and anxiously as he +spoke. +</p> + +<p> +"I won't argue with you," said the girl, bending +close to him. "I'll only say that I know I have the +best man in all the world, but if he were the worst, I +would rejoice to have him just the same." +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t4"> +PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="transnote"> +[Transcriber's note: illustration captions in brackets +were added by the transcriber.] +</p> + +<p><br><br><br><br></p> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78753 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/78753-h/images/img-012.jpg b/78753-h/images/img-012.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1266688 --- /dev/null +++ b/78753-h/images/img-012.jpg diff --git a/78753-h/images/img-088.jpg b/78753-h/images/img-088.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..495104c --- /dev/null +++ b/78753-h/images/img-088.jpg diff --git a/78753-h/images/img-180.jpg b/78753-h/images/img-180.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ad496da --- /dev/null +++ b/78753-h/images/img-180.jpg diff --git a/78753-h/images/img-258.jpg b/78753-h/images/img-258.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5e14b5c --- /dev/null +++ b/78753-h/images/img-258.jpg diff --git a/78753-h/images/img-cover.jpg b/78753-h/images/img-cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fdd1f76 --- /dev/null +++ b/78753-h/images/img-cover.jpg diff --git a/78753-h/images/img-front.jpg b/78753-h/images/img-front.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8675abe --- /dev/null +++ b/78753-h/images/img-front.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c72794 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This book, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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