Brandon of the Engineers

They did so, and Dick no longer wondered how Bethune, who ostentatiously

declined to let his work interfere with his comfort, held his post. The

man thought in numbers, using the figures, as one used words, to express

his knowledge rather than as a means of obtaining it by calculation. Dick

imagined this was genius.

"Well," said Stuyvesant, "I guess we had better send for the storekeeper

next."

"Get it over," agreed Bethune. "It's an unpleasant job."

Dick sent a half-naked peon to look for the man, and was sensible of some

nervous strain as he waited for his return. He hated the task he had

undertaken, but it must be carried out. Bethune, who had at first tried

to discourage him, now looked interested, and Dick saw that Stuyvesant

was resolute. In the meanwhile, the shed had grown suffocatingly hot, his

face and hands were wet with perspiration, and the rumble of machinery

made his head ache. He lighted a cigarette, but the tobacco tasted bitter

and he threw it away. Then there were footsteps outside and Stuyvesant

turned to him.

"We leave you to put the thing through. You're prosecutor."

Dick braced himself as a man came in and stood by the table, looking at

the others suspiciously. He was an American, but his face was heavy and

rather sullen, and his white clothes were smeared with dust.

"We have been examining your stock-book," said Dick. "It's badly kept."

The fellow gave him a quick glance. "Mr. Fuller knows I'm not smart at

figuring, and if you want the books neat, you'll have to get me a better

clerk. Anyhow, I've my own tally and allow I can tell you what stuff I

get and where it goes."

"That is satisfactory. Look at this list and tell me where the cement

you're short of has gone."

"Into the mixing shed, I guess," said the other with a half-defiant

frown.

"Then it didn't come out. We haven't got the concrete at the dam. Are

there any full bags not accounted for in the shed?"

"No, sir. You ought to know the bags are skipped right into the tank as

the mill grinds up the mush."

"Very well. Perhaps you'd better consult your private tally and see if it

throws any light upon the matter."

The man took out a note-book and while he studied it Bethune asked, "Will

you let me have the book?"

"I guess not," said the other, who shut the book with a snap, and then

turned and confronted Dick.

"I want to know why you're getting after me!"

"It's fairly plain. You're responsible for the stores and can't tell us

what has become of a quantity of the goods."

"Suppose I own up that my tally's got mixed?"

"Then you'd show yourself unfit for your job; but that is not the worst.

If you had made a mistake the bags wouldn't vanish. You had the cement,

it isn't in the store and hasn't reached us in the form of concrete. It

must have gone somewhere."