“I think I can guess who that is,” remarked Ned, with a chuckle.
The men from the other shops dispersed to their several places, the fire hose was reeled back into place, and Rad urged his horse back to the garden cultivator. Koku, still staring in puzzled fashion at the half length of broken hose in his hand, wandered back to his post, murmuring:
“Hose, he come along ob me—water, he no come. How can do?”
Clearly it was a problem too deep for his brain.
Tom hurriedly entered his private office, his mind intent on many things but chiefly concerned with a knotty problem in applying sufficient force to a train to stop it and at the same time, doing no damage to the passengers or to the tracks or the train.
“It’s got to be done with a recoil system, either of springs or hydraulic pistons,” said the young inventor.
As he entered the room Tom was surprised to see the form of Ivan Barsky, the new Russian pattern maker, making a hurried exit from it by the rear.
For a moment the young man was too surprised to quite take in the significance of the matter. As he slowly realized that strict orders had been posted to the effect that none of the men from the shop was to enter the private offices unbidden, Tom called:
“What were you doing in here?”
Sharp suspicion entered his mind.