He selected another turnbuckle, handed both to Al, and the youth “weighted them” in his two hands.
“This one does feel heavier.”
“Of course it does! It’s a cheap casting, not the aluminum alloy the other one is machined from. Why, them threads on the new one will wear and go bad in no time!”
Al, watching, observed that as the rigger manipulated a pocket knife in the threaded end of the part, bright metal and a worn look were almost immediately evident.
“Yes,” Sandy Jim agreed with his discovery, “and I’ve been talking around and others is dissatisfied—in the dope room, in the engine room. Everywheres!”
“But when Mr. Parsons talked with the manager,” Al explained, “they had the supply clerk in and went over the orders and way-bills and delivery check-up, and everything was all right. The orders went to the same firms, as always——”
“We’re getting shoddy stuff, all the same!” grunted Jim. “What good is it to rush out a ‘job’ and have it accepted on the reputation of Mr. Tredway, and then have complaints in a few days?”
“I don’t know,” said Al, and changed the subject. “Mr. Horton says you’ll have to excuse me, this morning. He’s sending me out on an errand.”
“Oh, sure!” Jim snapped. “Wants this job rushed, and takes away my helper! Whyn’t he use his office boy?”
Al could not explain that it was Barney’s way of releasing him so he could go to The Windsock for that comparison of the ex-pilot’s autograph with the clue note Al held.