Scamping Tricks and Odd Knowledge - Part 8
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Part 8

"Considering we had about sixteen rings altogether, top to bottom; there was a good length on which to dodge, but our game would have been too risky I fancy with eight or ten rings, and in a strong light, because one could count the f.l.a.n.g.es pretty easily; but it is not many that suspect a ring may be omitted.

"We were some 8 feet in the hard soil, and I considered that enough, for the ground did not help much to keep the cylinders in place for 50 feet of the height above it, but they were well braced above high water and at top. When I consider a thing enough, you don't catch me let them have much more if I can help it. I hate waste.

"The foundations were declared to be all right, and so they were, and we at once began the hearting, and sealed up the bottom after cleaning up, and we put in good Portland cement concrete, for all the materials were supplied to us.

"Of course, the Company's foreman, when he came back, could not tell, nor could anyone else, that we had been having a happy time; but give him his due, he did all he knew to find the rings were in. You know the ring we got rid of for 'extras' we took care should be sunk in the middle, between the two columns, and well away from each one. The bridge was wide,--about four lines of rails on top--so we slung the ring out very quickly, after the men had gone for the day, just about midway between the cylinders, and down it went pretty quickly, and it was bound to be in the mud fully 8 feet by the morning, and sure to sink a bit more, for I had it dropped sharp, and I thought it would be certain to break up where it fell. We worked it so nicely, and all was as lovely and serene and merry as a marriage, and real crumbs of comfort, and I thought no more about it.

"We sank the ring purposely midway between the other two cylinders, so that if the bridge had to be widened it would not be found. But we were had for once, and no mistake this time, and all our own fault, and just where we thought we had been clever, for one day the engineer came down and sniffed about. I wish he had stopped at home instead of coming bothering; however, he did not, but came. The result was the resident engineer handed to me a tracing with a new cylinder marked on in the middle of a line drawn through the centre of the two cylinders, and just where I had sunk the 6 feet length I thought I had got a bit 'extra' out of so sweet, and I might have just as well sunk it outside.

Well, I took two pills that night to brace me up and set my machinery in perfect trim; and no one can know what I suffered, for I meant getting out of the fix somehow or other, but could not see my road much ahead.

"You know I was certain we were bound to find that 'extra' ring. If we could have broken it up, or have been sure it was broken, there might have been no harm; but we did not know exactly where it was, and if we did we could not raise it. I felt certain we should come to it, and tried the crane to see if we could fix the spot, but we had to chance it. It was no use humbugging ourselves into thinking we knew where it was, when no one could possibly know. As I said before, I was positive we should meet it in sinking the cylinder, and as the ground was soft for some distance that it would tilt the centre rings--and then the game I had played would be found out, for cast-iron is hardly as soft as mud.

"I felt my reputation was at stake--in fact, all my n.o.ble past--and all for a 15 feet cast-iron cylinder, 6 feet in height, and 1-1/4 inch in thickness! I thought of blowing up the surface before the men were at work, and doing a bit of subaqueous mining; but it was too risky and desperate, so I saved myself for the final round, that is, I waited with my teeth set till I met that sunken 'extra' ring, and meant getting clear and settling it in one round, you bet, for I considered the situation very degrading, not to say insulting.

"We quickly erected the staging, and I tried all I knew to get the foreman away and the resident engineer. Still I dare not play the same tune too much, or they would suspect, but they were too 'fly' to be drawn off. I arranged with my nephews at the crane to give me the office, if I was not on the spot, by sharply twice turning on the blow-off c.o.c.k.

"I happened to be on the top of a column on the next land-pier with the resident engineer who had called me, and the foreman was there also, when I heard the two puffs. I pretended to take no notice, nor did he or the foreman, and I managed to govern myself and keep myself quiet, just like the old n.o.bility do, and think a lot.

"Before I left the resident engineer I found he was going at once to some meeting, and I just wished he would take the foreman with him, if only out of the love I had for him and give him a holiday; however, I got to know on the quiet he had to superintend some unloading at a wharf half a mile or more away, so the road was pretty clear. Directly I got to the cylinder I knew what was up, for it had tilted.

"We could not pump out the water, and divers could not go down unless the bottom was sealed, because of the almost liquid mud at the depth we had reached, but in another 8 or 10 feet it could have been done. I thought for an instant and then gave the word. 'Weight her down, lads, get some more kentledge and then we will pull her straight. It's only a piece of a wreck, or a bit of timber or stone.'

"I forget whether I told you that it was only my family party that knew of the 'extra' ring being sunk, the rest of my men did not. My game was to wreck the cylinder if I could, and tilt it over so that it would fall, and then fetch the foreman when I knew it would go. If I could manage that I felt I was right. Anyhow I was bound to smash up the bottom ring, at least, I thought so then. Cutting out the obstruction I was thankful could not be done, nor drawing it in, nor splitting it up inside the cylinder. That was certain. I did not much care to tackle lifting the rings. I wanted to smash them. Compressed air I did not want to hear of, for that would have bowled me clean out, and shown the whole game. I wanted to try to thrust the cylinder through the obstruction, although, of course, I was not supposed to know what it was, as that usually fails and ends in smash more or less, and I was certain it would in this case, for it was cast-iron against cast-iron on an earth bed. Attempting to thrust a cylinder ring through anything and everything is always a dangerous operation, and one to be avoided.

"Now they knew exactly how many cylinder rings had been delivered by the manufacturers, and if they had found the one we played 'extras'

with, they could soon see it was the same size and make, and could easily tell how many were on the work and in the piers. I beg pardon, I should have said, _supposed_ to have been in, and it was 1000 to 1 all would not be well.

"It occurred in the summer, and the foreman came and sent a telegram to the resident engineer, and before he arrived we had weighted the side that was up and endeavoured to get it straight by hauling, but it was no good; at least I think I tried to get it vertical, but I may also have tried to smash it. I expected, and was afraid, they would lift it by pontoons the next tide.

"Well, the resident engineer came. He tried a few figures over, and said to the foreman, 'If we do not mind, it will cost more trying to right it than it will to lift the lot.'

"Anyhow we got more power and more weights. He had the soil loosened on the upper side of the ring; but, of course, as it was iron at the bottom, it did not do much good; and we tried pretty well every dodge in turn that is known, but I need hardly say with very little effect.

"The resident engineer said, 'Compressed air will be too expensive for this one cylinder, but I think we can sufficiently clear the interior by a force pump and dredger for a diver to go down.' Now the chief engineer was abroad for a fortnight, so we left it alone that night; but I tried all I knew, bar hammering, for that I dare not do, to smash the rings and they would not break, the soil was too soft and even. I was certain I could pull them over, but then they would most likely lift the rings and might find out the cause of the bother.

"However, I let everything rest, and trusted to luck. The resident engineer decided to have the cylinder raised, as we had two large pontoons handy, so the top rings were removed to as low a depth above water as possible, and chains were fixed round the rings and also to bolts in the f.l.a.n.g.es, and in two tides all the rings were pulled up."

"'So you got out of the trouble all right?"

"You wait, don't be too sure. The resident engineer and the foreman were pacing up and down just as we were lifting the cutting ring, and we did that by the crane. They were at the other end of the staging though. The cutting edge was within a few inches of the water-level when I saw that a bit of the ring I had sunk for 'extras' was actually jammed into and hanging to the cutting ring."

"Oh! save my nerves, that was bad."

"Well, I had the crane stopped in a second, for my nephew was watching like a vulture, and I and my ganger had provided ourselves with a bar each, and were standing on the f.l.a.n.g.es. The cutting ring was only 3 feet 6 inches in height, and after two smashing taps it dropped, neither the foreman nor the resident engineer saw the fun closely; but as the resident asked us what we had been barring at, I said 'A small bit of a wreck got wedged on, sir, and would have stuck between the pontoons, and I am very sorry we could not land it to show you."

"That's good enough old pal. Pa.s.s on, please."

"I thought you would laugh. Well, the pontoon had been brought to the side of the staging as a precaution in case the chains might break or an accident occur, so as to be away from the line of the bridge, and so it did not matter where we dropped the cylinder ring I had 'extra' out of, but it was an ugly fish to hook I can tell you, and is about the only one I ever wished to get away, or did not want to see.

"Of course the cylinder went down all right afterwards, and the cause of the tilting was considered to be the remains of a wreck; but it strikes me, should they have to drive piles or sink cylinders anywhere near that pier, they may meet with some obstruction, and perhaps think they have struck rock; anyhow they will find out they have not 'struck oil,' and may send forth the news that a recent discovery has shown the early Britons built ironclads, and it was certain they sank, but there was not sufficient evidence to show whether the warships floated for many days."

CHAPTER X.

DRAIN PIPES. BLASTING, AND POWDER-CARRIAGE.

"The experience you had with cylinder bridge piers reminds me of a near shave for a bowl out I had. They let me a quarter of a mile of work, and I had to put in an 18-inch pipe at the deepest part of an embankment, just to take any surface-water that might acc.u.mulate now and again. Of course, an 18-inch pipe will take a lot of water, and I think we agree it is hardly right and proper to throw away good material or provide against events which, an earthquake always excepted, cannot occur in the opinion of the most experienced. You can't accuse me of being wasteful, it's not in me; for I've heard my mother say she never knew me upset anything I could eat or drink, and that I always licked my plate and never lost a crumb. You know it is a quality born in you, and I don't wish to take any credit myself, not me; I'm constructed different. Nor do I wish to say you are not so careful as me, and perhaps more; only, of course, you may put in a lot of strong work when I am not looking, and I think you'll have to do to get level with me. It never was in my heart to see anything wasted. It is against my principles. I hate it, I do.

"I said to myself, 'You shall not waste any material.' So what I did was to put five lengths of 18-inch pipe at each end of the slope, and 9-inch in the middle. The tip was almost on the spot, so I put in the 18-inch and the other pipes, and left a couple of lengths bare each end. The embankment was over 40 feet in height, the slopes were one and a-half to one, and the drain was about 50 yards in length, so it was not bad business.

"I never forget what the engineers tell me, and when I hear a discussion among them I always make a note of it, and wait till I have an opportunity of making a bit 'extra' profit by it. What is the use to the likes of us of a bit of education if we can't turn it into gold?

Not much; almost sheer waste, and I hate waste--abominate it. Well, one day the resident engineer was talking to another swell about how a splayed nozzle to a pipe caused an increased discharge.

"So, ever ready to learn, as you and me always are, I said to myself, fond-like and quiet, 'Try it; put it into practice.' And I did, as I told you just now, by the insertion in true scientific manner of smaller pipes in the middle. I wrestled with the subject, and said to myself, 'Now, look here, if I put in all 18-inch pipes that drain can't have a splayed nozzle, that's sure; in fact, it is fact.' So I said, continuing the discussion with myself, 'Don't be beaten. Let science lead you.' And I did."

"Fill up your gla.s.s, lad. Grasp. I'm hearty to you."

"Now, it was in the summer, and we are coming to my scare. I said to my men, 'Come an hour earlier to-morrow morning, for I have got a little extra work, and some of you call at my place on your road.'

"They came, and I had the 9-inch pipes handy, and away we went, about fifty of us, with a pipe or two each. It did not take long laying the pipes, nor covering up the lot. In any case you could hardly see through such a length, but as a precaution, I had the pipes put in a shade zigzag after the first six or seven lengths, so everything seemed all serene, at least, I thought so; but it was not, for I had the nearest shave for a bowl out that I ever had, and all on account of a bow-wow."

"How did it happen?"

"Well, the resident engineer came over with his pet dog, and I took to patting him, and felt really happy at the little bit of 'extra' I was to get out of these pipes, when the blessed dog began sniffing about one end and jumping up. The resident engineer got a bit excited.

"'Rat, is it, Dasher?' he said to his dog.

"The dog barked his reply to his master. The resident then said to me, 'Stop here with Dasher until I call him at the other end, as I intend him to go through the drain.'

"Before I could say a word, he was up and down the slopes, and at the other end of the pipe. I sat, or fell down, I don't know which, I did feel bad. I heard him call 'Dasher, Dasher.' The blessed dog rushed in, and then came back. His size was right for the 18-inch pipes but he was near too big in the barrel for a 9-inch pipe.

"To think that after working the show so smoothly and lovely to the satisfaction of all mankind as knew of it, and then to be bowled out by a 'phobia-breeding animal as hardly knows how to scratch his back, was too much. So I braced myself up, and said to myself, 'Mister Dasher you have not done me yet, not you, hardly. It will take a man to do it.'

"I patted him, and smiled pretty at him, and gave him a bit of biscuit, and grasped him round the middle just to see if he could get through the 9-inch lengths. I felt seven years younger when I found he could just manage it, but he would have to do it more like swimming than walking.

"Now I knew the pipes were all sound and whole, for I never put in broken goods, however small they may be.

"The engineer kept calling 'Dasher, Dasher,' so I said to him, through the pipe, 'Wait a minute, sir; Dasher, I fancy is not so used to tunnels as you and me. What do you say to try the other way in, sir, we all have our fancies?'

"I knew it was no use attempting to work him off, as he meant what he said, and would be sure to get suspicious--as he was no flat, I can tell you.

"Well, after a lot of urging, in went the blessed dog, and Stanley's journey in Darkest Africa was outdone then, I'm sure, and Dasher's rear-guard was in trouble.

"We waited, and called, and whistled, but could hear nothing. We must have waited half an hour I should say, at least it seemed to me as long, and the resident engineer shouted to me two or three times, 'If Dasher does not appear in a few minutes, your men must dig him out.'