which made Bill think of a circular log saw in buckwheat-cake batter.
The generator, when thrown in gear, had been running as smoothly as a
spinning top; there were no leaks in the pipe or the dam. But now they
found water trickling from a joint that showed the crushing marks of a
sledge, the end of the nozzle smashed so that only enough of the stream
struck the wheel to turn it, and there was evidence of sand in the
generator bearings.

Then appeared George, with an expression of mingled sorrow, shame,
wonder and injured pride on his big ebony features, his eyes rolling
about like those of a dying calf. At first he was mute.

"Know anything about this business, George?" asked Bill.

"Don't know a thing but what Ah does know an' dat's a plenty. What's
happened here?"

"The plant has been damaged; that's all."

"Damage? When? Las' night, close on t' mawnin'? Well, suh, Ah 'low that
there ghos' done it."

"Ghost? What--where was any ghost?"

"Right yer at de tool house. Come walkin' roun' de corner fo' Ah could
grab up man stick an' Ah jes' lef' de place."

"What? Ran away and from your duty? You were put here to guard the
plant; not to let any old--"