“Upon my soul, I believe it will....”
Fruen and Frøken Elisabeth came out, all the maids came out, Falkenberg
came out, and I let them see it work. Aha, what did I say?
Said the Captain presently:
“Won't it take up too much time, fixing the apparatus to one tree after
another?”
“Part of the time will be made up by easier work. No need to keep
stopping for breath.”
“Why not?”
“Because the lateral pressure's effected by the spring. It's just that
pressure that makes the hardest work.”
“And what about the rest of the time?”
“I'm going to discard this screw-on arrangement and have a clamp
instead, that can be pressed down by the foot. A clamp with teeth to
give a better grip, and adjustable to any sized timber.”
I showed him a drawing of this clamp arrangement; I had not had time to
make the thing itself.
The Captain took a turn at the saw himself, noticing carefully the
amount of force required. He said:
“It's a question whether it won't be too heavy, pulling a saw twice the
width of an ordinary woodcutting saw.”
“Ay,” agreed Falkenberg; “it looks that way.”
All looked at Falkenberg, and then at me. It was my turn now.
“A single man can push a goods truck with full load on rails,” I said.
“And here there'll be two men to work a saw with the blade running on
two rollers over oiled steel guides. It'll be easier to work than the
old type of saw--a single man could work it, if it came to a pinch.”
“It sounds almost impossible.”
“Well, we shall see.”
Frøken Elisabeth asked half in jest:
“But tell me--I don't understand these things a bit, you know--why
wouldn't it be better to saw a tree across in the old way?”
“He's trying to get rid of the lateral pressure; that's a strain on the
men working,” explained the Captain. “With a saw like this you can, as
he says, make a horizontal cut with the same sort of pressure you would
use for an ordinary saw cutting down vertically. It's simply this: you
press downwards, but the pressure's transmitted sideways. By the way,”
he went on, turning to me, “has it struck you there might be a danger of
pressing down the ends of the blade, and making a convex cut?”
“That's obviated in the first place by these rollers under the blade.”
“True; that goes for something. And in the second place?”
“In the second place, it would be impossible to make a convex cut with
this apparatus even if you wanted to. The blade, you see, has a T-shaped
back; that makes it practically impossible to bend it.”
I fancy the Captain put forward some of his objections against his own
conviction. Knowing all he did, he could have answered them himself
better than I. On the other hand, there were points he did not notice,
but which caused me some anxiety. A machine that was to be carried about
in the woods must not be made with delicate mechanism. I was afraid, for
instance, that the two steel guides might be easily injured, and either
broken away, or so bent that the wheels would jam. No; the guides would
have to be dispensed with, and the wheels set under the back of the saw.
Altogether, my machine was far from complete....
The Captain went over to Falkenberg and said:
“I want you to drive the ladies tomorrow; they're going some way, and
Petter's not well enough, it seems. Do you think you could?”
“Surely,” said Falkenberg; “and welcome.”
“Frøkenen's going back to the vicarage,” said the Captain, as he turned
to go. “You'll have to be out by six o'clock.”
Falkenberg was in high spirits at this mark of confidence, and jestingly
hinted that I envied him the same. Truth to tell, I did not envy him
there in the least. I was perhaps a little hurt to find my comrade so
preferred before myself, but I would most certainly stay here by myself
in the quiet of the woods than sit on a box and drive in the cold.
Falkenberg was thoroughly pleased with himself.
“You're looking simply green with envy now,” he said. “You'd better take
something for it. Try a little castor-oil, now, do.”
He was busy all the forenoon getting ready for the journey, washing down
the carriage, greasing the wheels, and cleaning the harness after. I
helped him with the work.
“I don't believe you can drive a pair at all, really,” I said, just to
annoy him. “But I'll give you a bit of a lesson, if you like, before you
start.”
“You've got it badly,” he answered. “It's a pity to see a man looking
like that, when a dose of castor-oil would put him right.”
It was like that all the time--jesting and merriment from one to the
other.
That evening the Captain came out to me.
“I didn't want to send you down with the ladies,” he said, “because of
your work. But now Frøken Elisabeth says she wants you to drive, and not
the other man.”
“Me?”
“Yes. Because she knows you.”
“Why, as for that, 'twould have been safe enough as it was.”
“Do you mind going at all?”
“No.”
“Good! Then that's settled.”
This thought came to my mind at once: “Aha, it's me the ladies fancy,
after all, because I'm an inventor and proprietor of a patent saw, and
not bad looking when I'm properly got up--not bad looking by any means.”
But the Captain explained things to Falkenberg in an altogether
different way, that upset my vanity completely: Frøken Elisabeth wanted
me to go down to the vicarage once more, so that her father might have
another try at getting me to take work there. She'd promised him to do
so.