Two mornings later the telegraph wire, one end of which now rested in a tent in camp, brought word that President Newnham was at the construction camp, and would be along in the course of the day.
Tom, Harry and the draughtsmen were the only engineers in camp at the hour when the message arrived.
“Big doings coming our way!” announced Tom, after he had broken the news to the others.
“Is Mr. Newnham likely to make much of a shake-up?” asked Watson, one of the college-boy draughtsmen.
“I’ve never met him,” Tom answered, “and I don’t know. We’re going along at grand old speed, and Mr. Newnham had better let things run just as they’re going now, if he wants to see the S.B. & L. open for traffic within charter time.”
“He may give all of us university boys the swift run,” laughed another of the draughtsmen.
“I don’t believe it,” Tom replied. “The added help that you fellows have given us has enabled us to double our rush forward. I’ve a notion that President Newnham is a man of great common sense.”
“How are the sick men this morning,” inquired Harry. “Is either one of them fit to talk with the president?”
“Doc Gitney says he won’t allow any caller within a thousand feet of his patients,” Tom smiled. “And Doc seems to be a man of his word.”
Both Mr. Thurston and Mr. Blaisdell were now weakly conscious, in a half-dazed sort of way. Their cases were progressing favorably on the whole, though it would be weeks ere either would be fit to take charge of affairs.