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Scarbridge?" "Thash all ri', Grish," interposed Blake, "thash all ri'. M'frensh Chimmy Ear' Albondash. Hish fa'er's Dush Rubby y' shee?" Without raising his voice, Griffith gave utterance to a volley of blasphemous expletives that crackled on the air like an electric discharge. "If you will kindly permit me, sir " "Hell!" cut in the engineer. "You call yourself his friend.
"Yes, I must insist upon that. Even in England I am only Mr. Scarbridge legally, y' know. Hope you'll do me the favor of remembering I prefer it that way." "I'd do a whole lot for any man he calls his friend," said Griffith, gazing across at Blake's broad back. Lord James glanced at his watch, and rose. "Sorry. Must go." "Well, if you must," said Griffith. "You know the way here now.
"Just the question of his finding out something that's apt to make him manhandle young Ashton." "Ah all the better, I say. Anything to divert his mind." Griffith looked at the Englishman with an approving smile. "You sure are the goods, Mr. Scarbridge! It'll take two or three days for him to fight down the craving, even with all the help we can give him.
I daresay we'll learn at the office." "Learn what, Mr. Scarbridge?" asked Dolores, who had popped out into the car vestibule. Without waiting for an answer or for his assistance, she sprang down the steps, waving her muff. "Come on, Vievie. Don't wait for mamma." "What are you going to do?" demanded Mr. Leslie. "Hunt for our heroic hero, of course," answered the girl.
"You know what I mean. But I didn't think she'd behave in this dog-in- the-manger fashion. She might have at least given me a chance for a tete-a-tete with him, even if he is her hero." "I am only too well aware what Lord Avondale will think of you, going on in this silly way," observed Mrs. Gantry. "If Lord Avondale doesn't like me and my manners, he needn't. Need you, Mr. Scarbridge?"
Leslie brought his shaggy eyebrows together in a perplexed frown. "Must say, I can't understand how the fellow makes such friends. Your case is hardly less puzzling than that of the Earl of Avondale." "Hey? Oh, you mean young Scarbridge. He seems to be one of the right sort even if he is the son of a duke. But if Tommy hadn't introduced him as a friend "
"I'll go, too. I've never been out on an unfinished bridge." "You'll not. You'll stay ashore," interposed her mother. "Oh fudge! Trot along, then, Mr. Scarbridge." At her call, Lord James had halted and turned about, eagerly expectant. As, disappointed, he started on again, she addressed Mr. Leslie: "I'm not going back into that stuffy car, Uncle Herbert. Where's the place you call the office?"
"Why, of of course I " stammered Ashton, his teeth chattering. "Sure," went on Griffith. "Any man who's invented such a modification of the truss as this bridge shows, ought to have all the fame he can get out of it. In England he'd be made a lord, I suppose. Eh, Mr. Scarbridge?" "Er we've knighted brewers and soap-boilers.
Griffith scowled at him and demanded: "Where's McGraw?" "B-bunkhouse," answered Ashton. Griffith spoke to Lord James in a low tone. "Go in and keep him there, will you? Might stay with him all night. We'll stop at the bunkhouse." "I'm on," said Lord James. Griffith raised his voice. "Well, then, if you prefer it that way, Mr. Scarbridge.
"You promised to go, Tom," said Lord James. "Did I?" replied Blake. "Well, then, of course I'm going." "Of course!" jeered Griffith. "It's no use arguing against a mule. Can't help but wish you hadn't reminded him, Mr. Scarbridge." "The change will do him good," argued Lord James. "I'm in for it, anyway," said Blake. "Only thing, I wish I could get some sleep, in between.
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