“Perhaps not,” Festing agreed. “Still, you see, the frequent repetition of a smaller shock—”
Charnock stopped him. “It's those confounded posts! If we pull them out, we'll have to cut down to the rock to find a solid bed, and there's a mass of stone to move. What would the job cost?”
He said nothing for a minute after Festing told him, and then remarked: “It's Kerr's business to find fault, and he looked satisfied.”
“He doesn't know as much about it as we do.”
“Then I wish we knew less. How long do you think the track would stand if we left it alone?”
“Until we got paid,” said Festing. “It might stand for some time afterwards.”
He fixed his eyes on Charnock and waited. Bob had expressed some praiseworthy sentiments about making a good job, but this was a different thing from living up to them when it would cost him much. What they ought to do was plain, but Festing admitted that the sacrifice required an effort. Then, somewhat to his surprise, Charnock looked up with a smile.
“You're not sure of me yet, Stephen, and I don't know that you can be blamed. It's a nasty knock, but we have got to bear it. Stop there a few minutes.”
“Where are you going?”
“To bring Kerr back and show him the damage. He'll have to lay off the gravel gang while we pull down the bank.”