“But—but something’s wrong. These are not the specifications I was given. They’ve been changed.”
“Changed? How?”
“I don’t know—unless——” Nash suddenly clenched his fingers. These were not the specifications given him by Hooker; he could swear to that. These were not the orders he had pinned to his board a few weeks previous. Who had changed them? And why?
Some one was passing the cabin, whistling. Nash hurried over, and jerked open the door. The man outside was one of the foremen.
“I say, Macklyn,” Nash called, “you’ve been around here all day, haven’t you?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Seen any one around my cabin?”
Macklyn studied for the interval. “Can’t say as I have—that is, nobody but Hooker.”
“Hooker?” Nash repeated sharply.
“Yes. He was around here this afternoon. Saw him go into your cabin—and then come out again in about ten minutes.”