“He sure did.”
“Why, the man’s a genius!”
“Yeah. Ever since he went and got his picture took.”
“How does he make this, anyway—this bearing? Soak the wood in oil?”
Forgan laughed.
“Not as easy as that. He puts her in as hot as the devil, and under a lot of pressure. Don’t just know how. He won’t tell. He’s got a lay-off now to work it out. Figuring on cost. Cost’s too much now; but he’s going to figure to make it cheaper. He—”
Ernie himself came in just then. I hardly knew him. He had on a new suit of clothes; he was close-shaven, and his hair was trimmed. His bearing was that of a successful and confident man, and he nodded to the respectful Forgan as one nods to a chauffeur.
“How is she?” he asked.
“Cool as a cucumber,” Forgan assured him.
“Any wear?”