"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.
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