Austin agreed, and Kit went back to the bunkhouse. In the morning a workman arrived at the forge.
“The boss wants Carson at the office,” he said.
Kit went with the man, who stopped at the door.
“The gang dropped a big tie-rod overboard, and I guess he’s riled. You want to watch out,” he remarked, and vanished.
Somebody ordered Kit to come in, and when he rather nervously advanced Wheeler got up and put a plan on the table. Wheeler was a big fellow and his loose slicker exaggerated his bulkiness. His face was fleshy, his mouth was hard and his glance commanding. Kit knew him for a good engineer and something of a bully.
“Study up that bow-girder,” he said. “The load she’s designed for is marked. Well, suppose we sent an extra big locomotive across, where do you reckon she’d go through?”
“It’s obvious,” Kit replied, and indicated the spot.
“Then how’d you strengthen her for a double load?”
“I think I’d sooner build a fresh bridge; but I don’t know much about bridges.”
“You’re not a railroad treasurer,” Wheeler rejoined. “Well, a construction problem is a construction problem, whether you get up against it in a bridge or, for example, a ship. Suppose you were forced to strengthen the girder, where’d you start. Take ten minutes for a rough sketch. Use the tools in front of you.”