Marv let out a long breath. “You just bled the ghost out of her, kid.”
At 400 psi, the pump yawned. At 800, it began to sing—a low, resonant hum that vibrated up through Leo’s boots. By the time the needle kissed 1,150 psi, the shop had gone quiet. Even the forklift driver killed his engine. ansi hi 9.8
He didn’t run. He didn’t yell. He simply reached over and twisted the bleed valve a quarter-turn. Marv let out a long breath