But to-day's shows that our plan for filling in this
particular, kind of quicksand was a sound one. You know the president
of the road said that words failed to express his complete approbation
of our work."
"We certainly have been remarkably fortunate--so far," Harry admitted.
"Yet I must confess, Tom, that I'm still nervous."
"Then it must be over Ashby," Tom laughed.
"Ashby be hanged!" Hazelton retorted. "I haven't given him a thought
this evening. No, I'm still nervous about our job here. The first test
was all right--that is, it was all right to-day. But these quicksands
are treacherous. Our roadbed may be all right for a fortnight, and may
seem as safe as we could wish it to be. Then, all of a sudden, within
sixty seconds, it may sink before our very eyes. Suppose it were to
sink while a trainload of human beings was passing over it!"
"You might as well dismiss all such thoughts," Reade counseled. "I tell
you, Harry, we've proved that our principle is sound. Now, we will go
ahead and finish the job.
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