“Say,” he almost shouted, at the same time shoving his hands distractedly through his hair, “what does he think I am?  How does he think I’m going to make up my books?  He’ll leave them there until he needs them, will he?  Well, he’s a damned fool, and you go back and tell him I said so.  He’s been long enough on the road to know better.  You go back and tell him I said that I want a signed form for everything consigned to him the moment he learns that it’s waiting for him, and I want it right away, without fail, whether it’s a single nut or a car of sand.  I want it.  He’s got to come to time about this now, or something’s going to drop.  I’m not going to stand it any longer.  How does he think I’m going to make up my books?  I wish he’d let you attend to these matters while you’re up there.  It will save an awful lot of trouble in this office and it may save him his job.  There’s one thing sure:  he’s got to come to time from now on, or either he quits or I do.”

These same o.k.s plus about twenty-five long-drawn-out reports or calculations, retroactive and prospective, covering every possible detail of his work from the acknowledgment of all material received up to and including the expenditure of even so much as one mill’s worth of paper, were the bane of my good foreman’s life.  As I learned afterward, he had nearly his whole family, at least a boy and two girls, assisting him nights on this part of the work.  In addition, while they were absolutely of no import in so far as the actual work of construction was concerned—­and that was really all that interested Rourke—­they were an essential part of the system which made it possible for him to do the work at all—­a point which he did not seem to be able to get clear.  At the same time, there was an unsatisfactory side to this office technicalia, and it was this:  If a man could only sit down and reel off a graphic account of all that he was doing, accompanied by facts and figures, he was in excellent standing with his superiors, no matter what his mechanical defects might be; whereas, if his reports were not clear, or were insufficient, the efficiency of his work might well be overlooked.  In a vague way, Rourke sensed this and resented it.  He knew that his work was as good as could be done, and yet here were these constant reports and o.k.s to irritate and delay him.  Apparently they aided actual construction no whit—­but, of course, they did.  Although he was a better foreman than most, still, because of his lack of skill in this matter of accounting, he was looked upon as more or less a failure, especially by the chief clerk.  Naturally, I explained that I would do my best, and came away.

When I returned, however, I decided to be politic.  I could not very well work with a pick and shovel, and this was about all that was left outside of that.  I therefore explained as best I could the sad plight of the chief clerk, who stood in danger of losing his job unless these things came in promptly.