"But—but I ain't!" moaned Hank. "I wasn't in this business till a couple of weeks ago!"
"What?" Grimper stared at him, then at the owner of the company. "I don't understand, Mr. MacDonald. Isn't this man your Chief Estimator? He must have had some experience."
"Hank," confessed the Old Man, "was a puffessor."
"A—a what?"
"Teacher," said Hank miserably. "I taught stuff and things at Midland U. Algebra, a little, an' general science, an' a smatterin' o' this an' that."
"You mean that with such a background—"
"I know whut y'r thinkin'," interposed old MacDonald hastily, "and 'tisna so. Mr. Cleaver airned his job the hard way. The fairst day he set foot in here I ordered him oot—but he's made me swallow my wairds. Now I consider his sairvices invaleeable."
"Still," frowned Grimper, "Mr. Cleaver's talents are not sufficiently remarkable to justify his presence on such a project as that which we are about to embark on. We have our own engineers and mathematicians in Washington. Why, I am an efficiency expert, myself, trained to handle emergencies—"
At that moment the office door inched open. The Old Man glanced up worriedly. "Aye, Miss Cole? What is it?"
"Three of the shop foremen, sir. They say they must see you immediately."