Her tone was a brave attempt at cheerfulness, but even in the dim light cast by the candles in the tunnel Joshua noted the tired look about her eyes and the slight sag of her lower lip, which told him that she was about all in. He watched the men at work for a time, then went out and clambered to the hilltop.
The engineers foregathered here, lean brown men in neat outing suits and trim puttees, paid no heed to the man in overalls who went about looking over the ground. They were talking among themselves, and they all looked wise and dictatorial. Moseying here and there, Joshua studied the slide, and at last stepped close enough to overhear the conversation of the engineers.
“There’s only one way to go about it, I’m telling you,” he heard. “I saw a similar situation on the Denver and Rio Grande, when I was with old La Salle. There they hauled in hundreds of tons of baled hay and chucked it into the gap. And it held the slide back till they could timber up again and work beyond the hole in the roof. Now here it’s simpler than that. Baled hay costs money, but we’ve got a heavy forest all around us. It won’t take any time at all for a good timber crew to fell enough trees to stop that slide. In a week’s time everything will be moving along as before. Let’s put it up to the boss. I tell you I know she’ll work like a charm.”
“Provided,” thought Joshua, “that what remains of the tunnel’s roof will continue to stand the strain when they begin firing again.”
He did not see Madge again until noon, when he ate with her and her mother in their living tent. Usually Mrs. Mundy and her daughter dined with what is known in construction circles as “the royal family,” which consists of the contractors and their families, the walking boss, the commissary men and bookkeepers—almost every one in camp holding a position above that of common laborer. But to-day Joshua declined to eat with Mr. Demarest and Mr. Tillou, who were guests of the camp, in order to avoid a possible embarrassing situation. So Madge made excuses to her guests for herself and her mother, and ordered dinner for three served in the living tent.
Madge was quiet and thoughtful, with little lines of worriment at the corners of her mouth and eyes. Still, she was hopeful, for the young engineers had told her the essence of what Joshua had heard on the hilltop.
“Oh, we’ll pull out of it, all right,” she strove to assure herself.
Joshua said nothing to this. He was thinking deeply. He was afraid that, after the gap had been stopped with tree trunks, as soon as another shot was fired, no matter how light it might be, another cave-in would occur, and they would find themselves back where they started. But he said nothing of this to Madge, and tried to interest her in his homestead to take her mind from her worries.
He bade the mother and daughter good-by in the middle of the afternoon and returned to his own camp. Next morning he was swinging a hammer again in his old place, his mind full of many things.
A month passed, during which time he was unable to visit the Mundys again. He worked all day, and at night he wrestled with the problem of making his telescope in the blacksmith shop. His express shipment had long since arrived at Ragtown, and he had his notes to aid him, but he soon found out that it is easier to tell one how to make things than to actually do the work.