that building was perfection plus, like all our buildings. That covers the entire situation."
Hundreds of questions were parried and answered by the three engineers, and the reporters left convinced that if the Muller Construction Company was responsible, it was not through any fault of its own.
THE fact that Jenks and Linane were not strong for each other, except to recognize each other's ability as engineers, was due to an incident of the past. This incident had caused a ripple of mirth in engineering circles when it happened, and the laugh was on the older man, Linane.
It was when radio was new. Linane, a structural engineer, had paid little attention to radio. Jenks was the kind of an engineer who dabbled in all sciences. He knew his radio.
When Jenks first came to work with a technical sheepskin and a few tons of brass, Linane accorded him only passing notice. Jenks craved the plaudits of the older man and his palship. Linane treated, him as a son, but did not warm to his social advances.
"I'm as good an engineer as he is," mused Jenks, "and if he is going to high-hat me, I'll just put a swift one over on him and compel his notice."
The next day Jenks approached Linane in conference and said:
"I've got a curious bet on, Mr. Linane. I am betting sound can travel a mile quicker than it travels a quarter of a mile."
"What?" said Linane.
"I'm betting fifty that sound can travel a mile quicker than it can travel a quarter of a mile."
"Oh no—it can't," insisted Linane.
"Oh yes—it can!" decided Jenks.
"I'll take some of that fool money myself," said Linane.
"How much?" asked Jenks.
"As much as you want."
"All right—five hundred dollars."
"How you going to prove your contention?"
"By stop watches, and your men can hold the watches. We'll bet that a pistol shot can be heard two miles away quicker than it can be heard a quarter of a mile away."
"Sound travels about a fifth of a mile a second. The rate varies slightly according to temperature," explained Linane. "At the freezing point the rate is 1,090 feet per second and increases a little over one foot for every degree Fahrenheit."
"Hot or cold," breezed Jenks, "I'm betting you five hundred dollars that sound can travel two miles quicker than a quarter-mile."
"You're on, you damned idiot!" shouted the completely exasperated Linane.
JENKS let Linane's friends hold the watches and his friend held the money. Jenks was to fire the shot.
Jenks fired the shot in front of a microphone on a football field. One of Linane's friends picked the sound up Instantaneously on a three-tube radio set two miles away. The other watch holder was standing in the open a quarter of a mile away and his watch showed a second and a fraction.
All hands agreed that Jenks had won the bet fairly. Linane never exactly liked Jenks after that.
Then Jenks rather aggravated natters by a habit. Whenever Linane would make a very positive statement Jenks would look owl-eyed and say: "Mr. Linane, I'll have to sound you out about that." The heavy accent on the word "sound" nettled Linane somewhat.
Linane never completely forgave Jenks for putting over this "fast one." Socially they were always more or less at loggerheads, but neither let this feeling interfere with their work. They worked together faithfully enough and each recognized the ability of the other.
And so it was that Linane and Jenks, their heads together, worked all night in an attempt to find some cause that
