“Ordered the siphon steel?”
“All of it. In fact, to-day I started construction of the big siphon across Soledad Cañon.”
“Good for you!” Hooker’s eyes brightened. “That’s speedy work, all right, Nash. Sigsbee wants to see Camp Forty-seven get the first siphon completed. It’ll carry a hundred-dollar bonus if you complete it before the fifteenth.”
“I’ll win it.”
Hooker’s face glowed with admiration. “Nash, you’re a brick. I never saw a fellow put so much enthusiasm into his work.” Then, after a moment, he added: “Not having any trouble, are you?”
“Trouble? None, except that water main being smashed. Why?”
Hooker shrugged, and turned the subject with a laugh. “Oh, nothing in particular, Nash. Only, you know, a man in your position is always hated by some of the workers. I guess you can take care of yourself, can’t you? You’re no weakling. And remember, this isn’t New York.”
“What do you mean by that?” Nash asked, not liking the other’s tone.
“Well, if you should—hurt a man out here—it wouldn’t be necessary to disappear,” Hooker answered. “I believe that was the reason for your departure from New York, wasn’t it?”
Nash calmly ignored the insinuation, gathered up the papers Hooker had brought, and fastened them with the others on his board.