“I have some knowledge of civil engineering,” replied the commissioner.
“Well, it can’t be very much,” declared Neale, whose temper was up.
“Young man, be careful what you say,” replied the other.
“But Mr.—Mr. Lee—listen to me, will you?” burst out Neale. “It’s all here in my notes. You’ve hurried over the line and you just slipped up a foot or so in your observations of that section.”
Mr. Lee refused to look at the notes and waved Neale aside.
“It’ll hurt my chances for a big job,” Neale said, stubbornly.
“You probably will lose your job, judging from the way you address your superiors.”
That finished Neale. He grew perfectly white.
“All this expert-commissioner business is rot,” he flung at Lee. “Rot! Lodge knows it. Henney knows it. We all do. And so do you. It’s a lot of damn red tape! Every last man who can pull a stroke with the Government runs in here to annoy good efficient engineers who are building the road. It’s an outrage. It’s more. It’s not honest... That section has forty miles in it. Five miles you claim must be resurveyed—regraded—relaid. Forty-six thousand dollars a mile!... That’s the secret—two hundred and thirty thousand dollars more for a construction company!”
Neale left the office and, returning to Henney, repeated the interview to him word for word. Henney complimented Neale’s spirit, but deplored the incident. It could do no good and might do harm. Many of these commissioners were politicians, working in close touch with the directors, and not averse to bleeding the Credit Mobilier.