"See here, I'll—-"
"You'll keep quiet, Evarts, or you'll go overboard," Reade interrupted significantly. "I happen to know that you can swim, so I won't be bothered with you here if you insist on making a nuisance of yourself."
Mr. Renshaw, having been relieved at the engine, now came forward.
"Mr. Renshaw," directed the young chief engineer, "as soon after daylight as it is convenient for you you'll pay Evarts off in full to date and let him go. He threatens to sue if he is not paid to the end of the month, but if he wants to we'll let the courts do our worrying."
"All right, sir," nodded the superintendent.
Evarts had dropped into a seat just forward of the engine. He sat there, regarding Tom Reade with a baleful look of hate.
"You're a success, all right, at one thing, and that's making enemies," muttered the discharged foreman under his breath.
Besides attending to the wheel Tom now reached out with one hand and switched on the search-light, which he manipulated with one hand. Shortly he found the spot where the portion of the wall had been blown away by the first explosion. A hundred and fifty yards farther out he beheld the work of the second explosion. Some seventy-five yards in length was the new open space, where at least as much of the retaining wall as was visible above the water had been blown out.
"Slow down, Cordon," ordered Tom. "All we want is headway."
"All right, sir."