The workman sat down and began to cut tobacco.
“You don’t want to hustle for me; I’ll take a smoke. Mr. Austin’s waiting for the bar.”
“Now you talk!” Bill remarked. “Mr. Austin’s the company’s engineer, but not long since you were slinging rails. I don’t want you near my tool rack. Skat!”
The other pushed the keg he occupied farther from the wall, and by and by Bill beckoned Kit. Kit went to the anvil, and for a minute or two steadied the glowing iron Bill pulled from the forge. The hammer crashed on the hot metal, and Kit turned his head from the flying sparks. When the eye was welded Bill plunged the iron in the tank and threw it on the floor.
“There’s your bolt. Light out!”
The workman went off, and some time afterwards Kit moved some drills on a bench.
“I don’t see the spanner.”
Bill frowned. “If she’s gone, I know where she went. Railton was pretty smart.”
“You think he picked up the tool when we welded the bolt? If that is so, I’m accountable, and I’ll go after the fellow. Suppose you give me a message for somebody at the bridge?”
“If you went now, Railton would guess we were on his track. You want to wait until he gets careless. Maybe I’ll think of something in the afternoon.”