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By. CYRUS TOWNSEND BRADY YOUNG MEADE MAKES A DISCOVERY WHICH TERRIFIES HIM AND HE TRIES TO SAVE MANY LIVES CHAPTER IVContinued. But Meade -was out of the house. It was summer and the sun had set, but the long twilight of the high latitude still lingered. Before him rose the gi gantic structure of the bridge. For all Its airiness it looked as substantial as the Rock of Gibraltar, and it looked even more substantial If possible, as the man, seizing a lantern and, for getting his weakness, ran down be neath the overarching steel to the pier head, climbed up to the shoe, and crawled out on the lower chord as rap Idly as he could. Meade needed butane glance to see the deflection from the right line in the important member. For all his years of inexperience he was a better trained engineer than rough-and-ready Abbott. What appeared to the latter as a slight deflection, Meade saw In its true relation. There was a variation In the center of the member of an inch and a half at least, although un noticeable to an untrained eye. It had all come in the last week. They had extended the suspended span far out beyond the edge of the cantilever and, with the heavy traveler at the end, the downward pressure on the great lower chord members had greatly in creased. It was a terribly heavy bridge at ttst It had to be to sustain so long a .span, the longest in the world. And the load, continuous and Increasing, had brought iabout this, to the layman trifling, to the engineer mighty, bend. If it bent that way under that much of a load, what would it do when the whole reat span was completed and It had to carry its transitory loads of traffic -beside? When two different views meet It bs natural that age, experience, -reputa tion and authority shall carry the day. Although Bertram Meade, Jr., had never been persuaded in all particu lars of the soundness of his father's design, and could not be persuaded, that vast experience, that great repu tation, that undoubted ability with its long record of brilliant achievement had at last silenced him. He had ac cepted through loyalty tharwhich he could not accept in argument. Once accepted, he acted accordingly, heart ily seconding and carrying out the wishes of the older and, as the world would say, the abler man. The thing that smote the engineer hardest was fliat this weakness was exactly what he had foreseen and pointed out. It was the possibility of the inability of this great member to carry the stress that young Meade had deduced by using the formula of Schmidt-Chemnitz. It was this point, and this point particularly, that he had dwelt upon with his father and which they had argued to a finish. So strongly had he been impressed with the possible structural weakness of this member that he had put Himself on record In writing to his father. The old man had overborne him and now the little curve, one and a ffalf to one and three-quarter Inches in sixty feet, established the accuracy of his un heeded contention. Vainly now he wished he had not let the old habit of affection and the little touch of awe with, which he regarded his father per suade him against his reason. He stopped, feeling suddenly ill, as a very nervous high-strung man may feel under the sudden and unexpected physical shock. He was weak still from the tonsilitls. He leaned against the diagonal at the end of C-10-R, clinging to It tightly to keep from fall ing. Abbott, who had followed more slowly, stopped by him, somewhat sur prised, somewhat amused, more indig nant than both. "Abbott," said Meade fiercely as the erecting engineer joined him on the pierhead, "if you put another pound of load on "that cantilever I will not be answerable for the consequences." "What do yon mean?" "That deflection is nearly two inches deep now and every ounce or pound of added weight you put upon it will make it, greater. Its limit will be reached mighty soon. If it collapses" he threw up his hands-"the whole thing will go." "Yes, if It collapses, that's true," said Abbott, "but it won't" "You're mad," said Meade, taking unfortunately the wrong course with the older man. "Why, boy," said Abbott, "that bridge win stand as long as creation. Look t It. That buckle doesn't amount to Mytfelag, It Is only in one truss tfftj- The Martlet Construction company Is putting up a great inter- national bridge planned by Bertram Meade? Sr., a famous engineer. His son, Bertram Meade, Jr., resident engineer at the bridge, is in love with Helen niingworth, daughter of Colonel niingworth, pres- ident of the construction company, and they will marry as soon as the bridge is complete. The young engineer questioned his father's judg- ment on the strength of certain important girders, but was laughed at. His doubts are verified, however, and he makes desperate efforts to stop construction, fearing great loss of life. way. The corresponding member in the other truss is perfectly straight." "Abbott, for Qod's sake, hear me," pleaded Meade In desperation. "Draw back the traveler and put no more men on the bridge. Stop work until we can get word to^-n "Dont talk to me, boy. I know my business. I tell you I can jack it back. That member's big enough and strong enough to hold up the world." "What are you going to Jack against?" Meade asked, and for the first time a Ittie of Abbott's contempt appeared in the younger man's voice. Abbott reflected that there was noth ing firm enough to serve as a support for jacks and said rather grudgingly, for it seemed like a concession to the younger and junior engineer: "Well, I cun hook on to the opposite truss and pull it back with turn buckles." "That will damage the other truss too much, Abbott," Meade retorted promptly. "It isn't possible." "Then Til think up some other scheme," returned Abbott indifferently, as If humoring the other. "We can't wait, we've got to hurry it along. WEB OF STEEL Copyright by Flemlnf H. Itevell Co. He Stopped, Feeling Suddenly III. There's going to be no penalty against us on account of me. I won't stop work a minute," he explained patronizingly. "There will be a bigger penalty if you don't do what I say, and paid in another way, in blood. And it will be your fault" Now both men were angry and in their passion they confronted each other more resolute and fierce than ever. "Look here," said Abbott, his fiery temper suddenly breaking from his control, "who are you anyway? You're only a kid engineer. Your father ap proved of the plan of this bridge. I guess we can afford to bank on bis reputation rather than yours." "Well, he doesn't know of this.'* "Nobody Is on the bridge now, and nobody Is going to be on there until tomorrow morning. Wire Mm if you like. Hell wire niingworth down at Martlet and well get word what to do." "You won't put any men at work on the bridge until"* "Not until tomorrow morning," said Abbott decisively, "if I don't hear from somebody at Martlet tomorrow morn ing the work goes on." "But if my father wires you" I take orders from the Martlet com pany and no one else," was the short answer with which Abbottturned away In finality, so that the other realized the interview was over. Meade wasted no more pleas on Ab bott As 111 luck wduld have it some thing had happened to the telephone and telegraph wires between the city and the camp. Meade dressed himself, got a handcar, and was hurried to the nearest town on the railroad's main line. From there he sent a telegram and tried to get connection with New York by telephone, but failed. Moved by a natural Impulse, In default of other means of communication, he lumped on the midnight train for New York. He would go himself In person and attend to the grave affair. Noth ing whatever could be so important There had been seme friction be tween Abbott and Meade before on oc casions, not serious, but several times Meade had ventured to suggest some- cuk thing which to Abbott seemed useless and unnecessary, and the fact that subsequent events bad more often than not proved Meade's suggestions to be worth while, had not put Abbott in al together the best mood toward his young colleague. Abbott never forgot that Meade had really no official con nection with the building of the bridge, and that he was only there as a special representative of his father, and al though he could not help liking the younger man, Abbott would have been better pleased if he had been left alone. Meade had not gone about It In the right way to move a man of Abbott's temperament He realized that as he lay awake on the sleeper speeding to New York. Abbott was a man who could not be driven. He was a tre mendous driver himself and naturally he could not take his own medicine. If Meade had received the announcement more quietly and if he had by some subtle suggestion put the idea of dan ger into Abbott's mind all would have been well, for when he was not blind ed by prejudice, or his authority or his ability questioned, Abbott was a sen sible man thoroughly to be depended upon. But the news had come to Meade with such suddenness, Abbott had only casually mentioned it at the close of a lengthy conversation regarding the progress of the work as if It were a matter of no special moment, that the sudden shock had thrown Meade off his balance. Therefore he could see nothing but danger and the necessity for action. How he should handle his, superior, or rather the bridge's superior, was the last thing in his mind. Aside from his natural pride in his father and in the bridge and his fear that lives would be lost if it failed, unless he could get the men withdrawn, there was the complication of his engagement to Helen Ulingworth. Meade could not close his eyes, he could not sleep a moment on the train. His mind was in a turmoil. Prayers that he would get to his father and the bridge people In time to stop work and prevent loss of life, schemes for taking up the deflection, strengthening the member, and completing the bridge, and earsthat he would lose the wom an, stayed with him through the night. CHAPTER V. The Death Message. Meade, Sr., was an old man. Al though unlike Moses his eye was dim and his natural force abated, the evi dences of power were still apparent, especially to the observant. There rose the broad brow of the thinker. His power of intense concentration was ex pressed outwardly by a directness of gaze from the old eyes which, though faded, could flash on occasion. Other facial characteristics of that snow crowned, leonine head, which bespoke that imaginative power without which a great engineer could not be in spite of all his scientific exactitudes, had not been cut out of his countenance by the pruning knife of time. He was a great engineer and looked it, sitting alone in his office with the telegram crushed in his trembling hand, despite the fact that his gray face was the very picture of unwonted weakness, of lmpotency, and abiding horror. The message had struck him a terrific blow. He had reeled under it and had sunk down in the chair in a* state of nervous collapse. The telegram fairly burned the clammy palm of his hand. He would fain have dropped li yet he could not Slowly he opened it once more. Ordi narily, powerful glasses stimulated his vision. He needed nothing to read it again. It lsyioubtful whether his eyes saw It or not and there was not need, for "Hie message was burned Into his brain. N He read again the mysterious words: One and three-quarter-inch camber In C-10-R. There could be no mistake. The name that was signed to It was the name of his son, the young engineer, the child of his father's old age. The boy, as the old man thought of him, had ventured to dispute his father's figures, to question his father's design, but the elder man had overborne him with his vast experience, his great au thority, his extensive learning, his high reputation. And now the boy was right Strange to say some little thrill of pride came to the old engineer at that moment He tried to find out from the tele gram when It had been sent That day was a holidaythe birthday of one of the worthies of the republicIn some of the United States, New York and Pennsylvania among them, and only by chance had he come down to the office that morning. The wire was dated the night before. And he recalled that the state from which the bridge ran did not observe that day as a holiday. They would be working on the Interna tional as usual unless One and three-quarter Inches of de flection 1 No bridge that was ever made could stand with a bend like that in the principal member of its compres sion chord, much less so vast a struc ture as that which was to span the THE TOMAHAWK, WHITE EARTH, MINN. J*Sftffei3^:asaMkyfeg- FATHER AND SON tfWhat 5^-RI3T TT CT greatest of rivers and,to bring nation Into touch with nation. He ought to do something, but what was there to do? Presently, doubtless, his mind would clear. But on the Instant all he could think of was the Impending ruin? The Uplift building, in which he had his offices, was mainly deserted on ac count of the holiday. The banks were closed and the offices and most of the shops, and stores. It was very still In the hall and, therefore, he heard dis tinctly the door of the stogie elevator in service open with an unusual crash, then the sound of rapid footsteps along the corridor as of someone running. They stopped before the outer door of the suite which bore his name. In stantly he suspected a messenger of disaster. The door was opened, the of fice was crossed, a hand was on the inner door. He sank back almost as one dead waiting the shock, the blow. 'Father," exclaimed the newcomer. "You got my telegram?" The other silently exhibited the crumpled paper In his hand. have you done?" "It's a holiday, don't you know? I only got it a few moments ago. The bridge?" "Still stands." "But for how long?" "I can't say. The Martlet's resident engineer is mad. I begged, threatened, Implored. I tried to get him to stop work, to take the men off the bridge, to withdraw the traveler, but he won't do It. Said you designed It, you knew. I was only a cub." "But the camber?" "He said, 'I'll jack it into line again.' Like every other engineer who sees a big thing before him it looks to him as If It would last forever. I tried to get you on the telephone here and at the house last night and failed. I wired you. Then I Jumped on the midnight express and" "What is to be done?" asked the old man. Meade, Sr., was thankful that the younger man had not said, "I told you so,*' as well he might But really his father's condition was so pitiful that the son had not the heart. "Telegraph the Martlet Bridge com pany at once," he answered. "What shall we say?" asked the old man, uncertainly. The young man shot a quick look at him, that question evidenced the vio lence of the shock. His father was old, broken, helpless, dependent at last. "Give me the blank," he answered, "I'll wire in your name." He repeated the telegram that he had sent to his father and added these words as he signed the old man's name to It: Put no more load on the bridge. With draw men and traveler. "I can't understand why we don't hear," said the young engineer two hours later, walking up and down the room in his agitation., "Two telegrams and now we can't get a telephone con nection, or at least any answer after our repeated calls." It's a holiday there as well as here," said the older man. "There is no one in the ofllce at Martlet." "I'll try the telephone again. Some one may come In at any time." He sat down at the desk, and after five minutes of feverish and excited waiting he finally did get the ofllce of the Martlet Bridge company. By a happy fortune it appeared that some one happened to come into the ofllce just at that moment "This is Meade," began the young man, "the consulting engineer of the International bridge. Well, at ten- All He Could Think of Was the Im pending Ruin. thirty this morning I sent a telegram to Colonel Illlngworth and an hour later I sent another. What's that? Both telegrams are on the desk? Give me your nameJohnsonYou're one of the clerks there"? Well, telephone Colonel Illlngworth at his home what! He isn't at home? Is the vice nridont therethe superintendent- u_*~.dl i lis**' ~^s^d* anybody? -How far away are they? Twenty miles I There's no telephone? Now, listen, Johnson, this is what you must do. Get a car, the strongest and fastest you can rent and the boldest chauffeur, and a couple of*men on horses too, and send up to that place wherever they are, and tell Colonel Biingworth that he must telephone me and come to his office at once. There are telegrams there that mean life or death and the safety of the bridge. You understand? Good. He says he'll do it, father. We've done all we can," he added. He hung up the re ceiver, sprang to his feet looked at his watch. "Ifs so Important that I'll go down there myself. I can catch the two o'clock train, and that will get me there in two hours. Yeu stay quietly here in the ofllce and wait until I get in touch with those people. I mean, I wast to know where I can reach you Instantly.'* "I'll stay right here, my boy. Go, and God bless you." As usual when in a great hurry there were unexpected delays and the clock on the tower above the big struc tural shop was striking five when a rickety station wagon, drawn by an ex hausted horse, which had been driven unsparingly, drew up before the ofllce door. Flinging the money at the driver, Meade sprang down from his seat and dashed up the steps.- He threw open the door end confronted Johnson. "Did you get him?" he cried. "He isn't here yet. I sent an auto mobile and two men on horseback and" The next minute the faint note of an automobile horn sounded far down the valley. "I hope to God that is he," cried the young engineer, running to the win dow. "That's thevcar I sent," said John son, peering over his shoulder. "And there are people in it It's coming this way." "Johnson," said Meade, "you have acted well in this crisis and I will see that the Bridge company remembers It" "Would you mind telling me what the matter is, Mr. Meade?" "Matter I The International" "Bert," exclaimed a joyous voice, as Helen Ulingworth, smiling in delighted surprise, stepped through the open door and stood expectant with out stretched bands. Young Johnson was as discreet as he was prompt and ready. He walked to the window out of which he stared, with his back ostentatiously turned to ward them. After a quick glance at the other man, Meade'swept the girl to his heart and held her there a mo ment. released her. The woman's passionate look at him was caressenough and his own adoring glance fairly enveloped her with emotion. Johnson coughed and turned as the two separated. It was the woman who recovered her poise quicker. "What were you saying about our bridge when I came Into the room?" she began, and Meade fully understood the slight but unmistakable emphasis In the pronounour bridge, indeed"I was lying down this afternoon, but when I awakened my maid told me about your urgent calls for father," she ran on, realizing that some trouble portended and seeking to help her lover by giving him time. "I knew something must be wrong, so I came here. I didn't expect to see you. Oh, what is It?" she broke off, suddenly realizing from the mental strain In her lover's face, which the sudden sight of her had caused him to conceal for a moment, that something terribly seri ous had happened, and she turned a little pale herself as she asked the question, not dreaming what the an swer would be. "Helen," said the young man, step ping toward her and taking her hands again, "we're In awful trouble." "If it Is any trouble I can share, Bert," said the girl, flashing at him a look which set his pulses boundingat least she was to be depended on "you know you can-count He did not kiss her before he 1 grams?" "Here." Colonel niingworth tore the first open with trembling fingers. "Why didn't you tell Abbott?" asked the chief engineer. "You know Abbott. He Said the bridge would stand until the world caved In. Said he could Jack the mem ber Into line. He wouldn't do a thing except on direct orders from hero." "Your father wires, 'put no more weight on the bridge.' What shall W do?" interposed Colonel niingworth. "Telegraph Abbott at once." "If the bridge goes It means ruin to the company," said the agitated vice president, who was the financial mem ber of the firm and who could easily Ml pardoned for a natural exaggeration under the terrible circumstances. "Yes, but if It goes with the men on, it meansJohnson, are you a telegraph operator?" "Yes, sir." "Take the key," said the colonel, who, having been a soldier, thought first of the men. Johnson sat down at the table where the direct wire ran from the bridge company to the telegraph ofllce. He reached his hand out and laid his fingers on the key. Before he could give the faintest pressure to the instru ment, it suddenly clicked of its own motion. Everybody In the room stood silent. "It is a message from Wilchings, the chief of construction foreman of,** Johnson paused a moment, listening to the rapid click"the International" he said In an awestruck whisper. It had come I "Bead it, man I Read it, for God's sake 1" cried the chief engineer. "The bridge is in the river," faltered Johnson slowly, word by word, trans lating the fearful message on the wire. "Abbott and one hundred and fifty men with i on me." "I know I can," he exclaimed grate fully. "Now tell me." "The International bridge is about to fall." The color came to her face again. Was that all? came Into her mind. That was serious enough, of course, but It would not matter In the long run. Helen realized the awful gravity, the terrible seriousness, of the situa tion of course. The bridge meant much to her even if In quite a different way. It was there he had saved her from the awful fall. It was there that he had told her that be loved her. The bridge might fall, but it was as eternal as her affection In her memory. Their en gagement, or their marriage, had-been made dependent upon the successful completion of the bridge. What of that? The proviso meant nothing to her when she looked at the white-faced agonized man to whom she had given herself. "It is ferrible, of course," she said quietly. "But you can do nothing?" "If I could, do you think I'd let the bridge, and you, go without" "I'm not going with the bridge," was her quick and decisive Interruption. They had both forgotten the pres ence of young Johnson, who was not only decidedly uncomfortable, but des perately anxious. He was about to speak when, Into this already broken scene, came another Interruption. There was a rush of wheels on the driveway outside, the roar of a motor. Before Meade could answer the state ment Into the room burst Colonel Il llngworth. He was covered with dust, his face was white, his eyes filled with anxiety. The character of the sum mons had disquieted him beyond meas- chlei vice president, and Curtiss, engineer. "Meade, wh^t of the bridge?" h* burst out, with a quick nod to hi* daughter. Colonel niingworth had not stopped to hunt for a wayside tele* phone. The automobile driven madl)r recklessly through the hills and ores the rough roads, had brought hint di rectly to the ofllce in the shortest pos sible time. "There is a deflection one Inch and three-quarters deep In one of the com pression members, 0-10-B," was the) prompt and terrible answer. Colonel niingworth had not bee* president of the Martlet Bridge con* pany for so long without learning some thing of practical construction. H# wap easily enough of an engineer ttf realize distantly what that statement meant "When did you discover it?" he snapped out. "Last night" "Is the bridge gone?" "Not yet." "Why didn't you let us know?" "I telegraphed father and, not hear ing from him, I came down on the mld- Into the Room Burst Colonel llllngton. night train. It is a holiday in New York as well as here. I just happened to meet father In the office. He sent a telegram to you and not hearing from you, duplicated it an hour later. I tried half a dozen times to get you on the telephone and finally, by a happy chance, got hold of young Johnson." "Where are your father's tele- What happens after the crash Is told In the next Installment What happens to the Meades and Mlinflworth8, and the vast trouble stirred up, makes thrill ing chapters. (TO BE CONTINUED.) Beware the Loaded Gun. The man who returns from hunting and sets his loaded gun In the corner or hangs It on the wall Is, In reality, setting death-trap. Yet It 4s surpris ing how often this is done. The gun we "didn't know was loaded," Is an old, old story, says Farmer's Guide. You cannot be too cautious. The loaded gun you may keep on the wall to shoot crows with when they get in the corn is liable to cause you more loss than a million crows can. It takes only a second to p$ a cartridge In a gun when the tiiae" (s at hand, i takes no longer to take it out *iii.^.. *.&&&.. Blossom Remains. -"Crlmsonbeak says his wtftt Bacon- ore* Back oi him came Severance, the th red off of Mi' keeps his nose to the grindstone." Bg| wssjj bert"Well, it doesa*t ^ML iff