He made a swift inspection. It was not so bad as he had feared. Orders had scattered in the night; but it might have been worse.
Silent came up to explain that Hardin had gone up to Fassett’s just a few minutes ago to carry dynamite. The river was cutting back there. “Good,” cried Rickard, “that’s bully!”
“He left me in charge,” glibly lied the friend of Hardin. “Any orders, sir?”
“Things are going all right?” began the manager. He stopped. From above came a dull roar.
“Dynamite!” cried Rickard.
The friend of Hardin had nothing to say. “I thought you said he went only a few minutes ago?” demanded his chief.
There was another detonation. Down the river came the booming of the second charge.
“That’s dynamite for sure,” evaded Silent.
“Not a minute too soon!” declared Rickard, going back to his inspection.