“Sure. There’s lots of room and a cot,” replied Coffee.
They carried Neale’s effects inside the tent. It was large and spare, containing table and lamp, boxes for seats, several cots, and bags.
“It’s hot. Got any drinking-water?” asked Neale, taking off his coat. Next he opened his bag to take things out, then drank thirstily of the water offered him. He did not care much for this part of his new task. These engineers might be sincere and competent, but he had been sent on to judge their work, and the situation was not pleasant. Neale had observed many engineers come and go during his experience on the road; and that fact, together with the authority given him and his loyalty to, the chief, gave him cause for worry. He hoped, and he was ready to believe, that these engineers had done their best on an extremely knotty problem.
“We got Lodge’s telegram last night,” said Coffee. “Kinda sudden. It jarred us.”
“No doubt. I’m sorry. What was the message?”
“Lodge never wastes words,” replied the engineer, shortly. But he did not vouchsafe the information for which Neale had asked.
Neale threw his note-book upon the dusty table and, sitting down on the box, he looked up at the men. Both engineers were studying him intently, almost eagerly, Neale imagined.
“Number Ten’s a tough nut to crack, eh?” he inquired.
“We’ve been here three months,” replied Blake.
“Wait till you see that quicksand hole,” added Coffee.