The Cost of Clevis Pins

At three forty-seven that same afternoon, the harsh reality of early mass manufacturing struck Plant One with brutal force.

Arthur Pendelton strode into Ernest's private office without knocking. He held a crumpled telegraph dispatch in his hand, his expression cold and grim.

"We have our first commercial failure, Ernest," Arthur announced, dropping the yellow paper onto the desk.

Ernest looked up from his drafting board, his pencil freezing. "Which client?"

"Edwin Carrow," Arthur said. "His stake-bed truck has ground to a dead halt in the middle of Victoria Road, completely blocking the tramway intersection."

Ernest stood up immediately, grabbing his overcoat from the wooden peg. "Did the engine seize? A cracked cylinder jacket?"