This was
one of the thousands of strange human incidents that must be enacted
in the building of the railroad. It might have been humorous, but it
was big. It fixed the spirit and it foreshadowed events.
General Lodge's stern face relaxed, but he spoke firmly. "Obey
orders," he admonished Larry King.
The loop was taken from Larry's waist and transferred to Neale's.
Then all was made ready to let the daring surveyor with his
instrument down over the wall.
Neale took one more look at the rugged front of the cliff. When he
straightened up the ruddy bronze had left his face.
"There's a bulge of rock. I can't see what's below it," he said. "No
use for signals. I'll go down the length of the rope and trust to
find a footing. I can't be hauled up."
They all conceded this silently.
Then Neale sat down, let his legs dangle over the wall, firmly
grasped his instrument, and said to the troopers who held the rope,
"All right!"
They lowered him foot by foot.
It was windy and the dust blew up from under the wall. Black canon
swifts, like swallows, darted out with rustling wings, uttering
frightened twitterings. The engineers leaned over, watching Neale's
progress. Larry King did not look over the precipice. He watched the
slowly slipping rope as knot by knot it passed over.
Pages:
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39