A sumptuous limousine car whirled up the muddy road. Its lordly door swung open; down stepped a large, autocratic gentleman, in raiment of startling splendor, followed by a quiet, courteous elderly man.
"I am Mr. Ellingworth Locke, of New York. I am the acting president of the Central Mississippi Drainage Association," announced the magnificent one. "You gentlemen, I take it, are the—ah—the junior engineers left in charge by Mr. Carlisle?"
Roderick and Burford admitted their identity.
"This is Mr. Crosby, our consulting engineer. Now that this district has joined the association, it comes under our direct surveillance. Mr. Crosby and I desire to go over your laterals and get an idea of your work thus far."
"We are honored." Burford bowed low and welcomed his guests with somewhat flamboyant courtesy. He led the way to the duty-launch. Roderick followed, bringing the cushions and the tarpaulin which the quick-witted Sally Lou hastily commanded him to carry aboard for the potentate's comfort.
Of all their guests, that long day, the acting president was the sole critic. At every rod of the big ditch, at every turn of the laterals, he found some petty fault. The consulting engineer, Mr. Crosby, followed him about in embarrassed silence. He was obviously annoyed by his employer's rudeness. However, for all Mr. Locke's strictures, it was evident that he could find no serious fault with the work. Yet both boys were tingling with vexation and chagrin when the regal limousine rolled away at last.
"What does ail his highness? Did ever you see such a beautiful grouch?" Rod mopped his forehead and stared belligerently after the car.
"Nothing ails him but a badly swelled head." Burford's jaw set hard. "The fact of it is, that the worshipful Mr. Ellingworth Locke hasn't two pins' worth of practical knowledge of dredging. He is a New York banker, and he has no understanding of conditions west of the Hudson. His bank is to make the loans for the association's drainage, and he has bought a big tract of land in this district. That is why he was elected acting president. Do you see?"
"Yes, that helps to explain things."
"So he struts around and tries to pick flaws with the most trifling points of our construction, to keep us from guessing how little he really knows about the big underlying principles. Gentle innocent, he tries to think he's an expert!" Burford waved a disrespectful muddy paw after the flying car. "All that an acting president is good for, anyway, is to wear white spats and to put on side."