In that month he frequently heard gossip as to the situation at the camp of the Mundys. Slide after slide was taking place, though the forest about the camp was being denuded of its magnificent trees in an effort to stem the tide. A famous engineer from the East had been summoned, and he was on the job at an enormous salary; but still the rotten stone and mud continued to slide into the tunnel. And now, it was said, it was coming from three directions. Then the buzz went through camp that Demarest, Spruce and Tillou had offered twenty-five hundred dollars to the man who could stop that slide, regardless of the expense.
“Bluenose,” said Joshua to his fellow-workman when the foregoing report had been confirmed, “I’m going down there and figure out a way to stop that slide. I’ve one grand little idea in my head. I would have suggested it before, but thought I’d be butting in and couldn’t attract anybody’s attention—least of all the attention of those big engineers. But now it’s open to anybody, and I’m going down to-night. But keep it dark, will you? I don’t want to make a monkey out of myself until I’ve looked over the ground again.”
“Say, kid,” was Bluenose’s encouraging remark, “you’re absolutely nuts! You stop that slide, when Emanuel Peters, one o’ th’ highest-paid engineers in the U. S. A., can’t cut th’ riffle! Gaw wan! Come outa yer pipe dream, ol’-timer. That offer ain’t meant for a stiff. It’s for old railroaders who know their job. What d’you know about engineerin’?”
“Nothing,” admitted Joshua. “And more than that, I have no head at all for figures. But I’ve got one asset, Bluenose, and I think it may win out for me. The trouble with these big engineers, it seems to me, may be that they’re too theoretical. They figure things out by rules and formulas. Why, in school we had a boy who could work almost any problem in mathematics, and he got his results with a method all his own. He never worked out a problem as it was supposed to be worked out, but he got correct answers every time. He used what I’m going to use down there at that slide.”
“What’d he use?” growled the unconvinced Bluenose.
“Horse sense,” said Joshua.
“You’re a goof,” Bluenose told him.
It was still quite light when Joshua set off after supper for the Mundys’ camp. He followed the trail that many feet had trod along the right-of-way, through darkening forest and grassy meadows. He was deep in his plans, walking with his eyes on the ground, when suddenly from the trees on his left, came the echoing bark of a rifle.
It startled him, and somehow he felt queer and weak. Then such pain as he never before had felt gripped his entire body, it seemed, and the forest began to rise and float off toward the clouds. There came another shot, but it seemed far away. Joshua sank slowly to his knees, then felt like lying down to sleep. He did not fall, but lowered both hands to the ground and eased himself down into a comfortable position. He knew that a stream of warm blood was running down his arm, but he did not mind. All he wanted was a little sleep, and then he would be going on to the Mundys. Ten minutes sleep—and then he would hurry on to Shanty Madge!