“I’m a sure enough Sourdough,” Bruce admitted, “but I did stray out of the timber. Register, and I’ll tell you all about it—maybe you can help me.”
Jennings, Bruce commented mentally as he watched him walk to the desk, was not exactly the person he would have singled out as the hero of five serious romances. Even five years before, in the Kootnai country, Jennings had been no matinee idol and Time had not been lenient.
He had bent knees, protuberant, that seemed to wobble. A horseman would have called him knee-sprung and declared he stumbled. His back was stooped so his outline was the letter S, and CARE was written in capitals on his corrugated brow. No railroad president with a strike on ever wore a heavier air of responsibility, though the suitcase which gave out an empty rattle contained James’s earthly all. His teeth were yellow fangs and his complexion suggested a bad case of San José scale, but his distinctive feature was a long elastic upper lip which he had a habit of puffing out like a bear pouting in a trap. Yet James’s physical imperfections had been no handicap, as was proved by the fact that he was paying alimony into two households and the bride on the horizon was contemplating matrimony with an enthusiasm equal to his own.
While Jennings breakfasted Bruce told him the purpose of his visit to the Pacific coast, hoping that out of the wide experience with machinery which Jennings claimed he might make some useful suggestions; besides Bruce found it a relief to talk the situation over with someone he had known.
“I don’t pretend to know the first thing about electrical machinery,” he said frankly, “I only know the results I want—that I must have. I’ve got to rely on the judgment and honesty of others and there’s such a diversity of opinion that I tell you, Jennings, I’m scared to death lest I make a mistake. And I can’t afford to make a mistake. I’ve left myself no margin for mistakes, every dollar has got to count.”
“There’s one thing you want to remember when you’re workin’ in an isolated country, and that’s the need of strength—strength and simplicity. These new-fangled—”
Bruce interrupted eagerly—
“My idea exactly—durability. If anything breaks down there that can’t he repaired on the place it means laying off the crew from a month to six weeks while the parts are going in and out to the factory.”
Jennings nodded.
“That’s it—that’s why I say strength above everything.” Nearly half a century of frying-pan bread had given Jennings indigestion and now as he sipped his hot water he pondered, bursting out finally—“If I was you, Burt, I’ll tell you what I’d do, I’d install the old type Edison machines for that very reason. You can’t break ’em with a trip hammer. They’re so simple a kid can run ’em. There’s nothin’ about ’em to git out of repair onct they’re up. If you aim to work that ground with scrapers, I’ll tell you now it’s goin’ to be a big drag on the motors. Of course they’re a little bit heavier than these new-fangled—”