The shop officer is returning. "Damn your impudence, Red," he shouts at the assistant. "Why don't you keep that tongue of yours in check?"
"Why, Mr. Cosson, what's th' trouble?"
"You know damn well what's the trouble. You made the old man mad clean through. You ought t' know better'n that. He was nice as pie till you opened that big trap of yourn. Everythin' went wrong then. He gave me th' dickens about that pile you got lyin' aroun' here. Why don't you take it over to th' loopers, Burk?"
"They have not been turned yet," I reply.
"What d' you say? Not turned!" he bristles. "What in hell are you fellows doin', I'd like t' know."
"We're doin' more'n we should," "Red" retorts, defiantly.
"Shut up now, an' get a move on you."
"On that rotten grub they feed us?" the assistant persists.
"You better shut up, Red."
"Then give us some help."