Leo dug the grinder out of his belt. He ground the bad spot down to bright metal, the wheel screeching in the confined space. He took a breath. He repositioned his legs. He struck the arc again, this time changing his angle. Instead of pulling the rod, he pushed it slightly—a modified 5G technique few knew. The puddle flattened. The slag flowed behind like a wave.
“Burn it out, Leo,” the kid whispered. welding pipe positions
He struck an arc.
“You got the root pass in yet, old man?” shouted a voice from the grating below. It was Kincaid, the new helper, a kid who thought a welding certificate from a trade school made him a journeyman. Leo dug the grinder out of his belt
He stopped. If he buried that bubble, the weld would fail in six months. The leak would come back, only bigger. Kincaid was behind him, watching with a flashlight. He repositioned his legs
