“What about?” queried Neale, always alive to interest of that nature.
“Cost of the construction. What else? Neale, there are two kinds of men building the U. P. R.—men who see the meaning of the great work, and the men who see only the gold in it.”
“And they conflict!... That’s what you mean?”
“Exactly. We’ve been years on the job now, and the nearer the meeting of rails from west to east the harder become our problems. Henney is played out, Boone is ill, Baxter won’t last much longer. If I were not an old soldier, I would be done up now.”
“Chief, I can see only success,” replied Neale, with spirit.
“Assuredly. We see with the same eyes,” said General Lodge, smiling. “Neale, I’ve a job for you that will make you gray-headed.”
“Hardly that,” returned Neale, laughing.
“Do you remember the survey we made out here in the hills for Number Ten Bridge? Made over two years ago.”
“I’m not likely to forget it.”
“Well, the rails are within twenty miles of Number Ten. They’ll be there presently—and no piers to cross on.”