“I see. What else does Benson say?”
“He has been asking questions and chewing the rag with anybody who would talk, he says; but we all know Jack. He is too downright and bluff to be much of a detective.”
Maxwell turned to his desk and began on the ever-present pile of waiting work; and the big expert settled himself more deeply into his chair and smoked on with his gaze fixed upon the ceiling gas-pendant. After the lapse of many minutes he said: “Have you a blue-print of the Copah yards, Dick?”
Maxwell rose and went to a filing-case in the corner of the office. After a little search he found the required blue-print and gave it to Sprague, explaining the locations and the relative positions of the three railroad yards. The expert studied the map thoughtfully, even going so far as to scrutinize the fine lettering on it with the help of a small pocket magnifying-glass.
“And right over here by the river is where you say the new camp has been pitched?” he asked, indicating the spot with the handle of the magnifier.
“Yes; Benson says it’s at the south end of the bridge, and just west of the T-C. bridge siding.”
Sprague looked up quickly. “Did Benson say they had an electric-light outfit for night work?”
“Why, no; I don’t remember that he did.”
“Go and ask him,” said Sprague shortly; and the superintendent, who had learned to take the expert’s suggestions without question, left the office to do it.
He was back in a few minutes, with the light of a newly kindled excitement in his eyes.