"I think you
had better stop work out there at once, Dan. I should say that the lower
chord here might buckle at any moment. I told the Commission that we
were using higher unit stresses than any practice has established, and
we've put the dead load at a low estimate. Theoretically it worked out
well enough, but it had never actually been tried." Alexander put on
his overcoat and took the superintendent by the arm. "Don't look so
chopfallen, Dan. It's a jolt, but we've got to face it. It isn't the end
of the world, you know. Now we'll go out and call the men off quietly.
They're already nervous, Horton tells me, and there's no use alarming
them. I'll go with you, and we'll send the end riveters in first."
Alexander and the superintendent picked their way out slowly over the
long span. They went deliberately, stopping to see what each gang was
doing, as if they were on an ordinary round of inspection. When
they reached the end of the river span, Alexander nodded to the
superintendent, who quietly gave an order to the foreman. The men in the
end gang picked up their tools and, glancing curiously at each other,
started back across the bridge toward the river-bank. Alexander himself
remained standing where they had been working, looking about him. It was
hard to believe, as he looked back over it, that the whole great span
was incurably disabled, was already as good as condemned, because
something was out of line in the lower chord of the cantilever arm.
The end riveters had reached the bank and were dispersing among the
tool-houses, and the second gang had picked up their tools and were
starting toward the shore.
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