Casper Daily Tribune Newspaper, May 2, 1917, Page 7

~ (Continued from Page 6) und that he was only th r. representative of his father na al- though he could not help liking the younger imun, Abbott would nuve been better pleased if he had left i alone. n Meade had not gone about it in the right way to move a mun of Abbott's temperament. He realized that as he ny awake on the sleeper speeding to i New York. Abbott was a man J could not be driven. He was a : mendous driver himself and natu F he could not take his own medicine Meade had received the announcement amore quietly and if he hud by some subtle suggestion put the idea of dan- pre as a special been been well, for when he was not blind- ed by prejudice, or his authority or his abllity questioned, Abbott was a sen- sible man thoroughly to be depended upon. But the news nad come to Meade with such suddenness, Abbott bad ouly casually mentioned it at the cle ot a lengthy conversution regarding the progress of the work us If it were a matter of no special moment, that the sudden shock haa thrown Meade off bis balance. Therefore he could see nothing but danger und the necessity for action. How he should handle his superior, or rather the bridge’s superior, was the jast thing in his mind. natural pride in his fathe yd im th bridge and his fear that lives would be he lost if it failed, unless the men withdrawn, th complication of his en Helen Ihingworth, Meafe could not close his eyes, he could not sleep # moment on the train. His mind was in a turmoil. Prayers that he woud 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 wom- an, stayed with him through the night could ¢ * wus the ment to CHAPTER V. The Death Message. Sr, was an old man. Meade, Al- though unlike Moses his eye was dim! and his natural force abated, the evi- dences of power were still apparent, especially to the observant. There rose the broad brow of the thinker. H power of intense concentration wus & pressed outwardly by directness of gaze from the old eyes which, though Ouler snow- faded, could flash on occusion. facial characteristics of that crowned, leonine head, which bespoke | that imuginative power without which ; @ great engineer could not be in spite of all his scientific exactitudes, had not been cut out of his countenunce 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. ; The telegram fairly burned clammy palm of his hand. He would fain have dropped it yet he could not. Slowly he opened it once more. Ordi- narily, powerful glasses stimulated his vision. He needed nothing to read it: again. It is doubtful whether his eyes saw itor not and there was not ne for the mess: burned into his age Was brain. He read again the mysterious words: On h camber in e and three-quarter-inch C-10-R. ; There could be no i name that signed name of his son, the ing engineer, the child of his father’s old uge. The boy, us the old man thought of him, had ventured to dispute his father’s figures, to question his futher’s design, but the eider man had overborge him with his vast experience, his great 4 thority, his extensive learning, his h reputation. And now the boy wus right. Inistake. The was fo it was the All He Could Think of Was the Im- pending Ruin. Strange to say some little thrill of pride came to the old engineer at that mowent, He tried to find out from the tele- gram 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 dowy to the office that morning. The wire was dated the “night before. And be recalled that the State from which the bridge ran did not observe that day as a holiday who} ger into Abbott's mind all would huve, Aside from his | Sy [sce us well he wight. the | | thirty this morning J sent a telegram | | must do. , You understand? | here in the office and wait until I get | They would be working on the Interna- | Nona! as usual unles: One and three-quarter dection! No bridge that vy could stund with a bend like What in the principal member of its coupres- | Sion chord. much less so vast a struc- ture as that which was to span the} ereatest rivers and to bring nation | {into touch with nation. He ought to| / do something, but what was there to do? Presently, doubtless, his ain| would clear, But on the instant all he could think of was the impending ruin. The Uplift building, in which he d his offices, was mainly deserted on ac- count of the holid: The bunks were closed and the offices and most of the | shops and stores. It wus very still in the hall and, therefore, he heard tis- tinetly the door of the sing levator in service open with an unusual crash, then the sound of rapid footsteps aloug nehes of de- ever made! the corridor as of someone running. They stopped before the outer door of | the suite which bore his name. In- | stantly he suspected a messenger of | disuster. The door was opened, the of- | Bice was crossed, a hand was on the inner door, He sank back ulmest as} one dead waiting the shock, the blow. “Father,” exclaimed the “You got my telegram?” The other silently exhibited the crumpled paper in his hand. | “What have you done?” “It's a holiduy, don't yu know? I only got it a few moments ago. The} | bridge?” “Stull stand: “But for how long?” “T can't say. The Martlet’s resident engineer is mad. I begged, threntened, implore I tried to get bim to stop} work, to tuke the men off the bridge, | to withdraw the traveler, but he won't } do it. Said you designed it, you knew, | 1 was only a cub.” “But the camber “He said, ‘I'll jack it into line egain. Like every other engineer who sees a } | big thing before him it looks to him as | | if it would last forey: I tried to get | you on the telephone here and ut the house last night and failed. I wired you. Then | jumped on the midnight express and—" “What is to be done?” asked the old | man, | Mende, + Wus thankful that | younger man had not said, “I tulad you But really his father’s condition was so pitiful that the son had not th hewcorer, ; Sr. the | heurt. | “Telegraph the Martlet Bridge com- | pany at once,” he answered, | “What shall we suy?” asked the old nan, uncertuinly, The young man shot a quick look at him, that question evidenced the vio- j lence of the shock. His father was | old, broken, helpless, dependent, at laste je ie “Give me the* blank,” he answered, “In wire in your name.” He repeuted the telegram that he | had sent to his father and added these words as he signed the old man’s mame to ft: Put no more load on the bridge. draw men and traveler. With- } hear,” said the young engineer two hours later, walking up and down the room in his ugitation. “Two telegrams }and pow we can’t get « telephone con- nection, or at least nny answer after our repeated calls.” | | “It's a holiday there as well as here,” | here is no one in the office at Mi | “Tl try the telephone again. Some- | one tuay come ip at any time.” i He sat down at the desk, and after | five minutes of feverish and excited waiting he finally did get the office of the Martlet Brid, inpany. By ¢ happy fortune it appeared that some-| one happened to come into the office just ut that moment, { This is Mende.” began the young | man, “the consulting engineer of the International bridge. Well, at ten- to Colonel Tingworth later I sent another. What's that? Both, telegrums are on the desk? Give me your nume—Johnson—you're one | of the clerks there? Well, telephone Colonel IWingworth at his home— what! He isn’t at home? Is the vice president there—the superintendent— | unybody? How far awny are they? Twenty mes! There’s no telephone? Now, listen, Johnson, this is what you Get a cur, 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 | Tlingworth that he must telephone me |! and come to his office at once. There} are telegrams there that mean life or denth and the sufety of the bridge. Good. He suys hel] We've done all we ean,” he added. He bung up the re- ceiver, 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 and an hour do it, father. | the matter is | again, “we're in awful trouble | Bert,” | awful fall. } “I can’t understand why we don't} THE CASPER DAILY TRIBUNE ; 4M automobile horn sounded far down! the valley. “Tho to God that is he > cried set young engineer, running to the win- tlow. “That's the cur 1 sent.” said John- son, peering over his shoulder. “And there are people in it. It’s way “Johnson,” said Mende, “you have acted well in this crisis and I will see that the Bridge company remembers 1 “Would ning this yeu what) tind telling Mr. Meade The Internat me “Matter! “Bert,” med a ce, as Helen Wingworth, smiling in delighted surprise, stepped through the open door and stood expectant with out stretched hands, Young Johnson was as discreet as he | Was prompt and ready. the window out which he stared with his back ostentatiously turned to-| ot | three-quarters deep in one of the com- | was ex “There is a deflection one inch and pression 1 nhers, C-10-R,” was the prompt and terrible answer. | Colonel Tingworth had not been! president of the Martlet Bridge com- pany for so long without learning some- thing of practical construction. He sily enough of an engineer to realize instantly what that statement |! nieant. Yhen did you discover it?” he, Spapped out. “Last night.” “Is the bridge gone?” “Not yet.” “Why didn’t you let us know?” “L telegraphed father and, not hear- ing from him, I came down on the mid- | night train. It is a holiday In New York as well us here. I just happened to meet father in the office. He sent a) He walked to) telegram to you and not hearing from) would have to take you, duplicated it an tried half a dozen tim hour later, to get you on! s ward them. After a quick glance at! the telephone and finally, by a happy | the other mun, Mende swept the girl| chance, got hold of young Johnson.” | to his heart and held her there a mo- | “Where sre your father’s tele ment. He did not kiss her before he | grams?” released her, The woman's pussionate ! “Here.” look ut him was curess enough and BY | Colonel Mingworth tore the first own adoring glance fairly enveloped : : ae her with emotion, Johnson Roeetied | Syeah ith trembling Angers: and turned as the two separated. was the woman who polse quicker, + “What were bridge when 1 she began, and M the slight but in the pronoun- recovered her you saying about our! ume into the room?” | ade fully understood unmistakable emphasis our bridge, indeed—"I was ing down this afternoon, but when 1 swakened iny muid told me} about your urgent calls for father,” she rap on, realizing that some trouble portended and = see ng to help her lover by giving him time. “I knew something must be wrong, so T came here. I didn’t expect to sge yc oh what is it?’ she broke off, suddenly reniizing from the mental strain in her “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 mem- ber into line. He wouldn't do a thing except on direct orders from here.” “Your father wires, ‘put no mor weight on the bridg What shal! we! do?” interposed Colonel Nlingworth. “Telegraph Abbott at once.” ] “If the bridge goes it means ruin to} the compan. said the agitated vice president, who was the financial mem. | | ber of the firm and who could easily be | pardoned for # natural exaggeration | under the terrible circumstance “Yes, but if it goes with the men on. lover's face, which the sudden sight of her had caused him to conceal for a Moment, that something terribly seri- ous had happened, and she turned a little pale herself us she asked the question, not dreaming what the an- swer would be. “Helen.” said the young man, ping toward her and taking her hunay ste “If it is any trouble I » shure aid the girl, flashing at hi look which set his pulses bounding—at least she wus to be depended ‘you know you can count on me.” “I know I can,” he exclaimed grate fully. “Now tell me. “The International bridge is about to fall.” The color came to her face again. Was that «ll? came into her mind. That wus serious enough, of course, but it would not matter in the long run. Helen realized the awful gravity, the terrible seriousness, of the situa tlon of course. The bridge meant much to her even if in quite a different way. It was there he had saved her from the It was there that he had told her that he loved her. The bridge might fall, but it was as eternal as her her memory. affection in Their en- i | Into the Room Burst Colonel Iilington. ' gugement, or their marriage, had been | made dependent upon the successful completion off the bridge. What of that? The proviso meant nothing to her when she looked at the white-faced ! agonized mun to whom she had given herself. U “It is terrible, of cours she said quietly. “But you cun do nothing? “If I could, do you think I'd let the bridge, and you, go without—” “I'm not going with the bridge, her quick and decisive interrupti They had both forgotten the pres- ence of young Johnson, who was not , only decidedly uncomfortable, but des- | perately anxious, He was about to wis I mean, I reach you in touch with those people. want to know where I can instantly.” “Tl stay right here, my and God bless you.” As usual when In a great hurry there were unexpected delays and the clock on the tower above the big struc- tural shop was striking five when a rickety station wagon, drawn by an ex- hausted 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 a mobile and two men on_ borse and—” The next boy. Go, | minute the faint note speuk when, into this ulready broken scene. cume another interruption. There was a rush of wheels on the driveway outside, the roar of a motor. | Before Meade could answer the state- ment, into the room burst Colonel Tl- | lingworth. He was covered with dust, his face was white, his eyes filled with anxiety. The character of the snm- mons had disquieted him beyond meas- ure. Back of him came Severence, the | vice president, and Curtiss, the chief | engineer. | “Mende, what of the bridge?” he burst out. with a quick nod to his | daughter. Colonel Ulingworth had not } Stopped to hunt for nyside tele. | phone. The abtoriobi iven madly. | recklessly through the hills and over the roush rene bod breneh® him di-.| ortest pos- | rectly tr | | it taut ac | one and a half inches, it means- inson, are you a telegraph operator s, sir.” “Take the " said the colonel, | who, having been a soldier, thoug nt | first of the men. | Johnson sat down at the table where | the direct wire ran from the bridge! compuny to the telegraph office. He reached his hand out and laid his} fingers on the key. Before he could) | give the falntest pressure to the instru- | | ment. it suddenly clicked of its own} | motion, Everybody in the room stood | | silent. | “It is a message from Wilchings, the | | chief of construction foreman of, Jobnson 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 | | cantilever Johnson slowly, word by word, trans- lating the fearful message on the wire. “Abbott and one hundred and fifty meno with it.” i CHAPTER VI. | ‘The Failure. In spite of himself and his confidence | | in the bridge, Abbott felt a little un- | easy the next morning. At bottom he! | had more respect for Meude’s tech- | nical knowledge than he hud displayed | or even admitted to himself. ‘The| | younger engineer's terrified alarm, his utter forgetfulness of the ame tween them, his frantic but futile ef. forts to telephone, of which the op- erntor told Abbott in the morning, his; | hurried departure to New York, were, | to say the least, somewhat disquieting, | much 1 so than he was fain to ad- | mit to himself. Although it tities he- invelved a hard and| somewhnt dangerous climb downward | - and took upwards of a half hour of his | valuable time, the first thing the erect- | ing 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, 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, support- ed the whole structure. If anything | were wrong, seriously, irrepurably wrong, with the member and it gave! way, the whole truss would go. The! other truss would inevitably follow suit, and the cantilever would immedi- | ately collaps@. Abbott realized that, | of course, as he climbed carefully | down to the pier head and stood on the | | } shoe. Abbott, as he stood by the member and surve ed it throughout its length, could eusily see that it had buckled, al- though the deviation was slight, about two inches at its maximum in sixty feet. He brought with him a tine and, | with infinite care and pains, he drew iss the slight con ity like | a bow-string. He had estimated the | camber, or the distance between the center of the bow and the string, at| As he | more careful measurements, he discov- | ered that it was slightly over one and three-quarter Inches. In seven hun- dred and twenty that was scarcely no- ticeable, and it did not seem very much to Abbott. As he stood there | feeling himself an insignificant figure | amid this great interwoven mass of steel, aguin the sense of its strength and stability came to him overpowering: | ly, so much so that he laughed aloud! in a rather grim fashion at the un- wonted nervousness which had been | induced in his mind by Meade’s words | and actions. But he was a conscientious man, sc he pursued his Investigations further He climbed up on top of the member. which was easy enough by means ot the criss-crossed lacing, and carefully inspected the lacings at the center of made | loose, | rigidity, he decided that th | Strains were to be expected. Of cour | along the tracks to begin their day’s e| work, that the responsibility for their | | a big man in his wa | every | ence the concavity, or sidewlse spring from the right line. He noticed, by getting down on his} bars | face and closely, 2 the of surveying number lacing fine hairline | soon as they got the suspenfled spad halfway over they would transfer the workmen and finish the opposite cami lever. Abbott caleulated that perhaps in another week they could get it oat cracks in the paint, surface traceries| if he drove the me He looked at tte apparently, running here and there} Watch, grudgingly obeer ving that 18 from the rivet ho The rivets them. WS almost five o'clock, The men were selves hid rather a strained look. Some| DOthing to Abbott. The bridge was of the outer rivets seemed slightly where before they must other purts of the bridge, had been carefully inspected at the shop an any looseness of the rivets would cer- tainly have been noticed there. But | Abbott's obsession as to the strength of the bridge had grown stronger. Lin- ing it out, crawling over it, feeling its > evid the lacings that held the webs togethe up a terrific stress. 1) They hud been designed for that pur- | pose. Largely because he did not find anything very glaring, und because he wanted to belleve 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 Mead 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 n but reflect, as the men came swarming lives luy with him. Well, Abbott was he had assumed responsibilities and wus per- fectly willing to do so again, both for men and bridge. The workmen at least had no suspicions or premonitions | of disaster. Wilchings, the chief er mun, knew about the cambe It had not bothered him. As he approached the two exchanged greetings. “You're out early, Mr, Abbott,” said ‘ting fore. | Wilchings, “Yes, C-10-R.” Wilchings laughed, “That little spring is nothing.” Ive been down to examine 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 find out anythir did you? 2 a thing except some, hair-line acks in the paint nround the rivets “You'll often find those whe a heavy load to take up. This bridge will stund long after you and I man on it has quit work for » there's good,” Now Wilchings was a man of experi- and ability, and if Abbott had needed any confirmation of his opinion this cureless expression would have served. He did send him across the river to examine the half-completee on the other bank, upon which work had been suspended, await- 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 atened to hold up the work, arrived that day and the chief of construction busier than he had ever b He driving the men with furious . Even under the best conditions it would be well-nigh impossible to complete the bridge on time. Abbott had pride in carrying out th ntriact and the finuncial question was a con siderable one. Had it not been for that. perhaps, he would have paid more attention to M appeal. So he hurried on the work at top speed. Late in the afternoon, without say iything to Wilchings, who hud re- 1 his regular work, or to anybody in *t, Abbott went down to look at the member again, He climbed down # hundred feet or more io muke an- other exuinination at the expense ¢ WZ =ZeN He Made Another Careful Examina- tion. much valuable time, for he had not passed so busy a day as that one since the bridge began. Everything was ex- actly us it had been. Those hair-line cracks had troubled hiim a little despite Wilching’s remark. He studied them a second time. They were just us they had been, so far as he could tell, no larger, no more numerous. ‘The lacings rang exactly the same under his ham- mer. He climbed back to the floor of the ridge and spent the next half hour in- specting the progress of the work. The suspended span hud already been pushed out far beyond the end of the cantilever. The work on the other side of the river had been stopped. As have; been tight, for the members, like all} and } ing shipments of steel. Wilchings later | that had been delayed and which had | everything. That is pot to suy'‘he wae heartless, but the bridge and its eres tion were supreme im his mind. The material was arriving and every- thing was going en with such a swing and vigor that he would fain have tept them at work an hour er two longer. The men themselves did not feel that way. Some of the employees of the higher grades had get the obsession of the bridge, but to most of them it was the thing they werked at, by whick | they got their datly bread—nothing more, Those who worked by the day were already laying aside their tools, ané | preparing for their departure. They | always would get ready,so that at the signal all that was left to do wus te stop. The rivéters, who were paid br the piece, kept ut it always to the very last minute. | Abbott had been standing near (the | outer end of the cantilever and he turned and walked toward the bank, The pneumatic riveters were vut-tat- tatting on the rivet heads with a per Teetly damnable iteration of insistent sound. A confused babel of voioes, the | clatter of hammers, ringing sounds of swinging steel grating ainst tee clanking of trucks, grinding of wheels the deep breathing of locomotives mingled in an unharmonious diapasop of horrid sound, Abbott was right above the pier heaf 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 hin to walk out on the nearest floor beam to the extreme edge of the truss und | look down at it once more, leaning far | out to see it better. He could get # better view of it with nothing between it and him. It still stood bravely. I was all right, of course. He wished that he had never said a word about it to anyone, He did not see why he coulé 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 hers and there a few riveters driving home a final rivet kept at it for a few see ond, but only for a few seconds. Then, for a moment a silence like death it self interves it seemed as If the ever blowing wind had been momeu- tarily stilled. That shrill whistle aud {the consequent cessation of the work always affected everybody the sane way. ‘There was inevitably and jit variibly a pause. The contrast b tween the noise a ite sudden sto page was sa great, thatthe men 4 stinctively walted a few seconds an drew # brenth before they begun ¢ light their pipes, close their tool boxed | pick up their eonts and dinner pails, and resume their conversation as they | | | strolled along the reudway te the shore. It seemed to Abbott that It had never heen so silent on the bridge before. There was almost always 2 breeze, sometimes a gate, blowing down or up the gorge through which the river flowed, but that afternoon not a breath was stirring, Abbott) found himself waiting Strained and wowonted susp the next second or two, his ont of the clearly. In below him, f bead he sow Ing stee Low, but «hk | Intense sile he heard sound like the snap 6f a gr Then the bright gleam cof broken metal eaught his excited glar The lacing was giving way. Meade ws right. The member would go with it— The first pop or two was suc au little rattle as heard from a distor wave way In quick su sion, Abbott wus a man with a powerful volee and he raised it to its limit. The idle workmen, just beginn{r Jaugh und jest, heard a great ery: “Off the bridge, for God's Two or three, among them Wilch ings, who happened to be within a few fect of the landward end, without um derstanding why, but impelled by the agony, the appeal, the horror in the In for fixed rm rays member, after The long v sup illuminated it nd immediately toward the pier sh as of brenk- ugh in the eded by of revolver shots , as the lacings great shont of the muster builder, leaped for the shore. On the bridge itself some stepped forward, me stood still staring, others pec ward. The great sixty-foot of | steel wavered like ribbons in the wind. The bridge shook us if in an enrth- quake, T e was a heavy, shud. swaying movement and then th: foot cintilever arm plunged ward, grent ship falls tr trough of a mighly sea. Shary | sounds cracked ont overhead as Mi truss parted at the apey, th ntwark half inclining to the water, the inward half sinking straight down. Shouts, oaths, sereams rose, beard faintly above the mighty bell-like re- qui of great girders, struts and tles smiting other members om? ringing in the ears of the helpless men like doom, Then, with a fearfnl crash, with a mighty shiver, the landward halt col- lapsed on the low shore, Uke o house of cards upon which has been Taid fhe weight of a massive hand. The river section, carrying the greater lod at the top and torn from its base, plunged, like an avalanche of ste 200 feet down into the river, throwing far nhend of it, as from a giant ehtapult, the traveler or the outward ead of the (Continued from Page 8) we us a