Stopping their work, when the order came, the workmen lighted their
pipes. Jack and Hal, not liking the clouds of tobacco smoke, ran up
the spiral staircase to the manhole, stepping, out upon the platform.
As they did so they encountered a man of about thirty years of age who
had just reached the platform deck from the shed flooring.

"Hullo, what are you two doing here?" questioned the new arrival, looking
the boys over keenly.

"Are you Mr. Farnum?" asked Benson.

"Yes. Well?"

"Mr. Pollard put us to work here, Mr. Farnum."

"Oh! That's all right, then," replied the owner of the yard, amiably,
and entered the conning tower.

"Tumble down here, you two lazy young roustabouts!" sounded Owen's
voice a few minutes later.

"We seem to have made a hit with our foreman, don't we?" chuckled
Jack to his chum.

"Mr. Owen," Pollard was saying to the foreman, as the boys rejoined the
crew below, "we can't stand the ringing of hammers all the time, so,
for the next job, I think you'd better fit some of the feed pipes
connecting the gasoline tanks with the motor."

"All right, sir," replied Josh Owen, briefly. He turned to order