|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 40
"Another glonoin, and then we'll start in to wake up our friend," said
the young doctor in white duck, after a pause.
Two or three minutes later the laborer opened his eyes.
"You've been trying not to hear the whistle," laughed the doctor gently.
"A big fellow like you must be up and doing."
Ten minutes later the doctor found Tom outside.
"The man will be all right now, with a little stuff that I'll leave for
him," smiled the visitor. "Of course there's some man in camp who can
look after a comrade to-night?"
"Doc, couldn't you do a better job if you had the man in Paloma under
your own eyes tonight?" Tom questioned.
"Yes; undoubtedly."
"Can you take him?"
"Yes."
"Then do so. Give him all the attention he needs. Make out your bill
to the A. G. & N. M. Hand it to me, and I'll O.K. it and send it in to
headquarters for payment. If you think an automobile ride after dark
will do the poor chap good, give him one and put that in your bill,
too."
"Reade, I want to shake hands with you," said the physician earnestly.
"I've looked after railroad hands before, but this is the first time I
was ever asked to be humane to one. Have no fear but I'll send this man
back to you strong and grateful. What's his name?"
"I don't know," returned Reade. "I don't even know to whose gang he
belongs, though I think he's one of Payson's men."
Late the following afternoon the laborer was brought back to camp. The
following morning he returned to his work as usual.
During the next two weeks Tom and Harry directed all their energies, as
well as the labor of all of their men, to bridging over that bad spot in
the Man-killer that had so nearly claimed two lives. One after another
six different layers of log network were put down. The open box cars
brought up thousands of tons of good soil, which was dumped down into
the layers of interlaced logs.
"The old Man-killer must feel tremendously flattered at finding himself
so persistently manicured," laughed Tom as he sat in saddle watching the
men putting down the sixth layer.
Steel piles, hollow and filled with cement, were being driven here, the
cement not going in until the top of the pile was but four feet above
the level of the desert.
"Look out yonder," nodded Harry, handing his field glass to his chum.
"You can just make out a glint on the sand. That's one of our steel
piles being sucked under."
"The explorer of a few centuries hence may find a lot of these piles,"
laughed Tom. "If he does, he'll most likely attribute them to the
Pueblo Indians or the Aztecs, and he'll write a learned volume about the
high state of civilization that existed among the savages here before
the white man came."
"I'm mighty glad, Tom, that General Manager Ellsworth isn't out here to
see how many dozens of steel piles we're feeding hopelessly to the Man-
killer."
"Not one of those piles is going down hopelessly," Tom retorted. "Some
of the piles may disappear, and never be seen again, but each one will
help hold the drift at some point, near the surface, or perhaps a
thousand feet below the surface."
"Only a thousand feet below the surface!" Harry grunted. "Tom, I often
feel certain that the Man-killer extends away down to the center of the
earth and up again on the other side. Before I'm a very old man I
expect to hear that several of our steel piles have shot up above the
surface in China or India."
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|