The 12.30 from Croydon Read Online Free PDF Page B

the office was slack he was to be found ‘down the yard’. When his thoughts in the office became too bitter he would take refuge in the same sanctuary. So it was on the present occasion.
    He passed through the store, nodding to the storesman and running his eye along the shelves with their load of wire, castings, bolts, terminals, and spares of all kinds, and in another section the finished motors, stacked according to size and winding. Charles was very proud of his store, with the continuous card indicator system he had introduced by which at a glance the exact amount of everything stocked could be read off. Also it pleased him to see the neat way in which everything was stacked, and he complimented the storesman on his well-swept floor and tidy shelves.
    From the store he glanced into the tiny foundry, exchanged a word or two with the solitary pattern maker, and then wandered across the yard to the winding shop. Here the armatures and the field magnets were wound. Charles rather aimlessly stopped before a small machine and stood watching it work.
    It was winding a coil with copper wire of the thickness of an extremely fine hair. The fairy-like thread, after coming off its reel, was carried through a bath of insulating varnish, dried in a current of hot air, and wound on the coil, all just as if the machine was a human being. The way the coil was turned to take the successive layers fascinated Charles, and he invariably stopped to watch the operation.
    ‘One of the distance relays for yon Dalton pit job,’ a voice said presently in deep Scottish tones. ‘A bonny wee machine, that.’
    ‘I could stand and watch it all day, Sandy,’ Charles admitted.
    ‘So I’ve obsairved,’ the Scotsman returned dryly.
    ‘I want to see that relay scheme fitted up and tested before we make too many of them,’ Charles went on, and they began to discuss technicalities.
    Alexander Macpherson, after visiting most of the maritime world in the engine-room of a tramp steamer, had suddenly fallen in love with and married a Glasgow girl. Evincing a desire to settle down, he had turned in his extremity to advertisement. The Crowther Electromotor Works, being at that precise time without an engineer, had had recourse to the same medium, with the result that Macpherson became works manager and engineer, to the lasting advantage of both himself and Charles Swinburn.
    ‘Strictly between ourselves, Sandy,’ Charles said at last, ‘I’ve had a bit of bad news. I hear we’ve lost that Brent Magnus job.’
    The engineer stared. ‘Lost it?’ he repeated in surprise. He shook his great head. ‘That’s no’ so good, Mr Charles; no’ so good. We canna afford to lose a job o’ that sort these times. You’re sure of it, I suppose?’
    ‘Well, Tim Banks told Gairns. He’s usually pretty reliable. I’ve not heard officially.’
    ‘Oh, aye; Banks is all right. Man, I’m sorry about that. I was counting on yon to keep the big slotter going.’
    ‘I was counting on it to keep more than the slotter going,’ Charles returned. ‘We’re going to have to reduce, Sandy.’
    ‘Reduce?’
    ‘Reduce hands. I’m sorry, but there’s no other way.’
    The engineer nodded. ‘I was feared of it. Aye, I’ve seen it coming. And there’s not a man I want rid of. They’re a good crowd.’
    ‘I know they are, poor devils. I don’t want it any more than you. But we can’t help ourselves.’
    They had left the winding shop and were pacing up and down in the yard between the buildings.
    ‘There’s the alternative of a cut in wages,’ Charles remarked.
    ‘No good. We hav’na the war-rk. We’ll have to lay some of the fellows off. That Brent Magnus job would ’a’ just saved them.’
    ‘Well, turn it over in your mind and let me know what you propose. We’ve got to save as much as we can.’
    For once Charles found his remaining round of the works buildings irksome. He could not bring himself to watch his men and receive their salutations,