CHAPTER XXI.MORE COMPLICATIONS.
The day following, however, Nash found so much additional work laid out for him that all other matters, especially those of a personal nature, were relegated to the background.
The “coyote” was exploded at eight o’clock that night, and Nash sought his cabin an hour later, dead tired, but with the satisfaction of knowing the carefully planned drift and rock chamber had accomplished the purpose intended. The double explosion had ripped off the mountaintop in the twinkling of an eye. A hundred men in a hundred days could not have duplicated the performance.
The job had been watched with a great deal of interest by the engineers and foremen on the other sections of the aqueduct, and Nash received a dozen telephone calls congratulating him on the success of the undertaking.
He was just back in his quarters, when a knock sounded on his door, and, opening it, he allowed a surprised exclamation to escape him.
“Miss Breen! Come right in.”
The girl obeyed him. She was dressed in her usual riding habit. Her face did not have the usual color and life, and her eyes were far from being alive and sparkling.
“Mr. Nash,” she began hurriedly, ignoring the chair he had pulled out, “I’ve come to warn you. You—you must get away before morning.”
“Get away?” Nash frowned, then laughed. “And why?”
“Are you never going to take me seriously?” she demanded, almost bitterly. “Have you forgotten what I told you—last night on the top of the mountain?”
“I’ve not forgotten,” he answered; “but I half fancied you were out of your head at the time.”
“I told you that the authorities at Los Angeles were coming here—to arrest you. I meant it. They will be here the first thing in the morning. That is why I rode from the ranch to-night. You must not remain here.”
“Miss Breen,” he said quietly, “I cannot run away—I would not run away. What you have said about my not following the city specifications is absurd. I can prove it to you. Let the authorities come. I will welcome any investigation they may make.”
His calm voice seemed to puzzle her. She stood in the center of the room, nervously fingering her heavy gloves.
“I am betraying my trust—in warning you,” she wavered. “Why do you hesitate? You can easily ride into San Fernando, and take the early train up to Frisco. It may mean years of imprisonment if you remain in this camp.”
“Believing me guilty, Miss Breen,” he ventured curiously to ask, “why are you doing this?”
The first color came to her cheeks. “Because—I hate to think—I——”
“Why did you not try to aid me the other night? The night I was about to capture the man who had smashed our water mains? Why did you cry out that my gun was unloaded—and allow him to escape?”
“I—I—— Oh, I did not understand at the time. I had met Mr. Macmillan at the ranch. He told me so many lies—lies about you. I was foolish, and believed them. That is why I was startled when I met you that first day on the trail—the day my horse ran away. He told me there was crooked work going on in the camp—and said you were responsible. So when I saw him that night I felt sorry for him. I called out and allowed him to get away.”
Nash shook his head. “He did not get away—far,” he answered. “I suppose you heard about——”
She nodded. “Yes. They brought his body to the ranch to-night.”
“Macmillan was an old subforeman in this camp when I came here,” Nash explained. “I was put to work under him. We had an argument, and I proved him to be in the wrong. Mr. Hooker, then the foreman of the camp, discharged him, and gave me his position. That explains his hatred of me.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t have believed a word of his story—had I not discovered the truth myself,” Miss Breen broke out impulsively. “I liked you from the very first. You seemed to be built of different stuff from most men. I couldn’t believe that you would——”
“That I would what, Miss Breen?” demanded Nash.
“That you would cheat your own city—the city you loved so well. Why, I remember that day you pointed out the work to me—and seemed so proud, so enthusiastic over the construction.”
“How have I cheated my city?” His tone was more of a command now, and he felt the hot blood mounting to his face. “How have I cheated my city, Miss Breen?”
“Do you remember the day I examined the steel siphons—the day you were showing me around the camp?”
“Yes.” Nash instantly recalled to mind the interest Miss Breen had shown in the work, and the unusual questions she had asked.
“The steel in those siphons is but seven-eighths of an inch in thickness,” she declared. “The specifications call for one and one-eighth inches.”
“Impossible!” Nash exclaimed. “That I should make such a mistake as that is preposterous. I have my specifications on file.”
He crossed the room, and took down the board upon which he kept the statements pinned. “Here is the last order from headquarters,” he said. “Hooker brought them to me over a month ago.” He ran his finger down the line of quotations. “Here—siphon steel for Soledad Cañon——”
He stopped, frowning; then he peered nearer. Miss Breen had followed him, and was looking over his shoulder.
“It says one-and-one-eighth-inch steel,” she declared.
“But—but something’s wrong. These are not the specifications I was given. They’ve been changed.”
“Changed? How?”
“I don’t know—unless——” Nash suddenly clenched his fingers. These were not the specifications given him by Hooker; he could swear to that. These were not the orders he had pinned to his board a few weeks previous. Who had changed them? And why?
Some one was passing the cabin, whistling. Nash hurried over, and jerked open the door. The man outside was one of the foremen.
“I say, Macklyn,” Nash called, “you’ve been around here all day, haven’t you?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Seen any one around my cabin?”
Macklyn studied for the interval. “Can’t say as I have—that is, nobody but Hooker.”
“Hooker?” Nash repeated sharply.
“Yes. He was around here this afternoon. Saw him go into your cabin—and then come out again in about ten minutes.”
Nash closed the door, and turned to face the girl.
“Those specifications were changed this afternoon,” he announced firmly, grimly. “And Hooker is the man who changed them.”