The Benson signal., 1917-05-05

everything. That is not to say he was
heartless, but the bridge and its erec-
ton were supreme In his mind.
The material was arriving and every
thing was going on with such a swing
and vigor that he would fain have kept
them at work an hour or two longer.
The men themselves did not feel that
way. Some of thu employees Of the
higher grades had got the obsession Of
the bridge, but to most of them it was
the thing they worked at, by which
they got their daily bread-nothing
more.
Those who worked by the day were
already laying aside their tools, and
preparing for their departure. They
always would get ready so that at the
signal all that was left to do was to
stop. The riveters, who were paid by
the piece, kept at it always to the very
last minute.
Abbott had been standing near the
outer end of the. cantilever and he
turned and walked toward the bank.
tatting on the rivet heads with per-
fectly damnable iteration of insiStent
sound. A confused babel of voices, the
clatter of hammers, ringing sounds Of
swinging steel grating against steel,
clanking of trucks, grinding Of wheels,
the deep breathing of locomotives,
mingled in an unharmonious diapason
Of horrid sound.
Abbott was right above the pier head
now. He looked down at it through
the struts and floor beams and braces,
fastening his gaze on the questioned
member. There it stood satisfactorily,
of course. Yet, something impelled him
to walk out on the nearest floor beam
to the extreme edge Of the truss and
look down at it once more, leaning far
out to see it better. He could get
better view of it with nothing between
it and him. 1t still stood bravely. It
was all right, of course. He wished
that he had never SAID word about it
to anyone. He did not see why he could
not regard it with the Indifference that
it merited. AS he stared down at it
over the edge of the truss the whistle
for quitting blew.
Every sound Of work ceased after
the briefest of intervals, except here
and there few riveters driving home
a final rivet kept at it for few Sec
ond, but only for few seconds. Then,
for a moment silence like death it.
self intervened. 1t seemed as if the
ever blowing wind had been mOmen-
tarily stilled. That shrill whistle and
the consequent cessation Of the work
always affected everybody the same
way. There was inevitably and in
variably a pause. The contrast be-
tween the noise and it's sudden stop
page was so great that the men in
stinctively waited few seconds and
drew breath before they began to
light their pipes, close their tool boxes,
pick up their coats and dinner pals,
and resume their conversation as they
strolled along the roadway to the
shore.
It seemed to Abbott that it had never
been so silent on the bridge before.
There was almost always a breeze,
sometimes a gale, blowing down or up
the gorge through which the river
| flowed, but that afternoon not breath
was stirring.
Abbott found himself waiting in
strained and unwonted suspense for
the next second or two, his eyes fixed
| on the member. The long warm rays
of the afternoon sun Illuminated It
| clearly. In that second Immediately
| below him, far down toward the pier
head he saw sudden flash as of break
| ing steel. Low, but clear enough in the
| intense silence, he heard a popping
sound like the snap Of great finger.
Then the bright CLEAN Of freshly
broken metal caught his excited glance.
The lacing was giving way. Meade was
right. The member would go with it
The first pop or two was succeeded by
little rattle as of revolver shots
heard from distance, as the lacings
gave way in quick succession. Abbott
was man with a powerful voice and
he raised it to it's limit.
The idle workmen, just beginning to
laugh and jest, heard great cry:
"Off the bridge, for Gods sakew
Two or three, among them Which
ings, who happened to be within few
feet of the landward end, without un-
derstanding why, but impelled by the
agony, the appeal, the horror in the
great shout of the master builder,
leaped for the shore. On the bridge
itself some stepped forward, some
stood still staring, others peered down.
ward. The great sixty-foot webs Of
steel wavered like ribbons in the wind.
The bridge shook as if in an earth
quake. There was heavy, shuddering,
swaying movement and then the 600
foot cantilever arm plunged down.
ward as a great ship falls into the
trough of a mighty sea. Sharp-keyed
sounds cracked out overhead as the
truss parted at the apex, the outward
half inclining to the water, the inward