“But the agents tell me these newer and lighter machines will stand it.”
Jennings blew out his elastic upper lip and shrugged a shoulder:
“Maybe they know more than I do—maybe they do, but it’s to their interest to talk ’em up, ain’t it? I’m no college electrician—I’m a practical man and I been around machinery nigh to fifty years, so I know them old-fashioned motors. They’ll stand an overload, and take my word for it they’ll git it on them scrapers. These new-fangled machines will stand jest about what they’re rated at and you can’t tell me anything differenter. I say them old type Edison machines is the thing for rough work in that kind of a country. Ain’t I seen what they can do on drudgers? Besides, you can pick ’em up for half the price and as good as new with a little repairin’.”
“I wonder if they would do the work,” Bruce murmured to himself thoughtfully.
“What interest would I have in tellin’ you if they wouldn’t?” Jennings demanded.
“I didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” Bruce assured him quickly. “I was thinking that if they would do the work and I could save something on the price of machinery I’d sure breathe easier.”
“Do the work!” scornfully. “You can pull off a chunk of mountain with a good donkey-engine and them motors. Why, on the drudgers up here in Alasky—”
“Do you know where you can get hold of any of these machines?”
“I think I do,” Jennings reflected. “Before I went down North I knowed where they was a couple if they ain’t been sold.”
“Suppose you look them up and find out their condition—will you do this for me?”