“Well, where are you going to put ’em?” asked Carleton in his voice of authority.
“Las’ time Caleb was down, sir, he said he wanted four more stone near the boat-landin’, in about twelve foot o’ water, to finish that row; then we kin begin another layer nex’ to ’em, if ye say so. S’pose you know Cap’n Joe ain’t here?—gone to New York. Will you go with us?”
“No; you set ’em. I’ll come out in the tug in the morning and drop a rod on ’em, and if they’re not right you’ll have to take 'em up again. That concrete’s out of level, you know.”
“What concrete?”
“Why, the big circular disk,” snapped Carleton.
This was only another excuse of Carleton’s for refusing to sign the certificate. The engineer had postponed his visit, and so this fresh obstruction was necessary to maintain his policy of delay.
“Not when I see it, sir, three days ago,” said Captain Brandt in surprise. “It was dead low water, an’ the tide jest touched the edges of the outer band all round even.”
“Well, I guess I know,” retorted the superintendent, flaring up. “I was out there yesterday with a level, an’ walked all over it.”
“Must’er got yer feet wet, then, sir,” said the skipper, with a laugh, as he turned toward the door. “The tide’s been from eight inches to a foot higher ’n usual for three days past; it’s full-moon tides.”
During the talk Aunty Bell and Mrs. Taft had slipped into the sitting-room, and the superintendent, finding himself alone, called to the skipper, and joined him on the garden walk.