Calumet 'K'. Webster Henry Kitchell
Чтение книги онлайн.

Читать онлайн книгу Calumet 'K' - Webster Henry Kitchell страница 2

Название: Calumet 'K'

Автор: Webster Henry Kitchell

Издательство: Public Domain

Жанр: Зарубежная классика

Серия:

isbn:

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ fairly started that it must be larger; so, in the midst of his work, Peterson had received instructions and drawings for a million bushel annex. He had done excellent work – work satisfactory even to MacBride & Company – on a smaller scale, and so he had been given the opportunity, the responsibility, the hundreds of employees, the liberal authority, to make what he could of it all.

      There could be no doubt that he had made a tangle; that the big job as a whole was not under his hand, but was just running itself as best it could. Bannon, who, since the days when he was chief of the wrecking gang on a division of the Grand Trunk, had made a business of rising to emergencies, was obviously the man for the situation. He was worn thin as an old knife-blade, he was just at the end of a piece of work that would have entitled any other man to a vacation; but MacBride made no apologies when he assigned him the new task – "Go down and stop this fiddling around and get the house built. See that it's handling grain before you come away. If you can't do it, I'll come down and do it myself."

      Bannon shook his head dubiously. "Well, I'm not sure – " he began. But MacBride laughed, whereupon Bannon grinned in spite of himself. "All right," he said.

      It was no laughing matter, though, here on the job this Monday morning, and, once alone in the little section house, he shook his head again gravely. He liked Peterson too well, for one thing, to supersede him without a qualm. But there was nothing else for it, and he took off his overcoat, laid aside the coupling pin, and attacked the stack of blue prints.

      He worked rapidly, turning now and then from the plans for a reference to the building book or the specifications, whistling softly, except when he stopped to growl, from force of habit, at the office, or, with more reasonable disapproval, at the man who made the drawings for the annex. "Regular damn bird cage," he called it.

      It was half an hour before Peterson came in. He was wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, and drawing long breaths with the mere enjoyment of living. "I feel good," he said. "That's where I'd like to work all day. You ought to go up and sledge them timbers for a while. That'd warm you through, I bet."

      "You ought to make your timekeeper give you one of those brass checks there and pay you eighteen cents an hour for that work. That's what I'd do."

      Peterson laughed. It took more than a hint to reach him. "I have to do it. Those laborers are no good. Honest, I can lift as much as any three men on the job."

      "That's all right if those same three don't stop to swap lies while you're lifting."

      "Well, I guess they don't come any of that on me," said Peterson, laughing again. "How long are you going to stay with us?"

      The office, then, had not told him. Bannon was for a moment at a loss what to say. Luckily there was an interruption. The red-headed young man he had spoken to an hour before came in, tossed a tally board on the desk, and said that another carload of timber had come in.

      "Mr. Bannon," said Peterson, "shake hands with Mr. Max Vogel, our lumber checker." That formality attended to, he turned to Bannon and repeated his question. By that time the other had his answer ready.

      "Oh, it all depends on the office," he said. "They're bound to keep me busy at something. I'll just stay until they tell me to go somewhere else. They ain't happy except when they've just put me in a hole and told me to climb out. Generally before I'm out they pick me up and chuck me down another one. Old MacBride wouldn't think the Company was prosperous if I wasn't working nights and Sundays."

      "You won't be doing that down here."

      "I don't know about that. Why, when I first went to work for 'em, they hired me by the day. My time cards for the first years figured up four hundred and thirty-six days." Peterson laughed. "Oh, that's straight," said Bannon. "Next time you're at the office, ask Brown about it. Since then they've paid me a salary. They seem to think they'd have to go out of business if I ever took a vacation. I've been with 'em twelve years and they've never given me one yet. They made a bluff at it once. I was down at Newport News, been doing a job for the C. & O., and Fred Brown was down that way on business. He – "

      "What does Brown look like?" interrupted Peterson. "I never saw him."

      "You didn't! Oh, he's a good-looking young chap. Dresses kind of sporty. He's a great jollier. You have to know him a while to find out that he means business. Well, he came 'round and saw I was feeling pretty tired, so he asked me to knock off for a week and go fishing with him. I did, and it was the hardest work I ever tackled."

      "Did you get any fish?"

      "Fish? Whales! You'd no sooner throw your line over than another one'd grab it – great, big, heavy fish, and they never gave us a minute's rest. I worked like a horse for about half a day and then I gave up. Told Brown I'd take a duplex car-puller along next time I tackled that kind of a job, and I went back to the elevator."

      "I'd like to see Brown. I get letters from him right along, of course. He's been jollying me about that cribbing for the last two weeks. I can't make it grow, and I've written him right along that we was expecting it, but that don't seem to satisfy him."

      "I suppose not," said Bannon. "They're mostly out for results up at the office. Let's see the bill for it." Vogel handed him a thin typewritten sheet and Bannon looked it over thoughtfully. "Big lot of stuff, ain't it? Have you tried to get any of it here in Chicago?"

      "Course not. It's all ordered and cut out up to Ledyard."

      "Cut out? Then why don't they send it?"

      "They can't get the cars."

      "That'll do to tell. 'Can't get the cars!' What sort of a railroad have they got up there?"

      "Max, here, can tell you about that, I guess," said Peterson.

      "It's the G. & M.," said the lumber checker. "That's enough for any one who's lived in Michigan. It ain't much good."

      "How long have they kept 'em waiting for the cars?"

      "How long is it, Max?" asked Peterson.

      "Let's see. It was two weeks ago come Tuesday."

      "Sure?"

      "Yes. We got the letter the same day the red-headed man came here. His hair was good and red." Max laughed broadly at the recollection. "He came into the office just as we was reading it."

      "Oh, yes. My friend, the walking delegate."

      "What's that?" Bannon snapped the words out so sharply that Peterson looked at him in slow surprise.

      "Oh, nothing," he said. "A darn little rat of a red-headed walking delegate came out here – had a printed card with Business Agent on it – and poked his long nose into other people's business for a while, and asked the men questions, and at last he came to me. I told him that we treated our men all right and didn't need no help from him, and if I ever caught him out here again I'd carry him up to the top of the jim pole and leave him there. He went fast enough."

      "I wish he'd knocked you down first, to even things up," said Bannon.

      "Him! Oh, I could have handled him with three fingers."

      "I'm going out for a look around," said Bannon, abruptly.

      He left Peterson still smiling good-humoredly over the incident.

      It was not so much to look over the job as to get where he could work out his wrath that Bannon left the office. There was no use in trying to explain to Peterson what СКАЧАТЬ