Nash admitted that he understood.
The president of the board continued: “What have you to say in your defense, Mr. Nash?”
Nash got to his feet and calmly faced the assembly.
“Upon my arrival in this city, gentlemen, I happened upon a letter directed to a Mr. Hooker, at that time the foreman of Camp Forty-seven. The man to whom the note was issued did not care for the position. As no names were mentioned, I took the letter, gave it to Mr. Hooker, and was engaged.”
“This letter,” interrupted the president, “was written by whom?”
“By Mr. Sigsbee.”
Finding himself the center of all eyes, Sigsbee nodded.
“I remember giving a letter to a man who claimed to be an Eastern engineer,” he explained. “He pleaded so hard for a position that I offered him a chance on Camp Forty-seven.”
Nash was asked to continue.
“I began in the camp as a sort of clerk,” he said. “After a week, because I proved my value, I was made a subforeman, and given charge of the conduit construction. One day, when Mr. Hooker was—ill, I helped the city inspector check over the pay roll. Having kept a memorandum of my own, I found it differed from the foreman’s statement to the extent of being just about half of the amount that——”