292

Frames for the Cantilever Bridge. Erecting the Towers. Setting up
the Frames. Binding and Anchoring the Structure. The Center
Panels of the Bridge. A Serious Interruption. Dispossessed.
Farewell to Willow Clump Island. Reddy's Cantilever Bridge.

[Illustration: Map of Willow Clump Island and Vicinity.]

THE SCIENTIFIC AMERICAN BOY.

CHAPTER I.

"BILL."

"Bill," he was it, the Scientific American Boy, I mean. Of course, we
were all American boys and pretty scientific chaps too, if I do say it
myself, but Bill, well he was the whole show. What he didn't know wasn't
worth knowing, so we all thought, and even to this day I sometimes
wonder how he managed to contrive and execute so many remarkable plans.
At the same time he was not a conceited sort of a chap and didn't seem
to realize that he was head and shoulders above the rest of us in
ingenuity. But, of course, we didn't all have an uncle like Bill did.
Bill's Uncle Ed was one of those rare men who take a great interest in
boys and their affairs, a man who took time to answer every question put
to him, explaining everything completely and yet so clearly that you
caught on at once. Uncle Ed (we all called him that) was a civil
engineer of very high standing in his profession, which had taken him
pretty much all over the world, and his naturally inquisitive nature,
coupled with a wonderful memory, had made him a veritable walking
encyclopedia. With such an uncle it is no wonder that Bill knew
everything. Of course, there were some things that puzzled even Bill.
But all such difficulties, after a reasonable amount of brain-work had
failed to clear them, were submitted to Uncle Ed. Uncle Ed was always
prompt (that was one thing we liked about him), and no matter where he
was or what he was doing he would drop everything to answer a letter
from the society.

THE OLD TRUNK.

[Illustration: Fig. 1. The Old Trunk in the Attic.]

[Illustration: Fig. 2. The Black Walnut Box.]

But hold on, I am getting ahead of my story. I was rummaging through the
attic the other day, and came across an old battered trunk, one that I
used when I went to boarding-school down in south Jersey. That trunk was
certainly a curiosity shop. It contained a miscellaneous assortment of
glass tubes, brass rods, coils of wire, tools, fish hooks--in fact, it
was a typical collection of all those "valuables" that a boy is liable
t