The words were indistinguishable, but Sheridan inclined his head to Gurney's ear and shouted fiercely: “Talkin' to himself! By George!”
Gurney laughed reassuringly, and shook his head.
Bibbs returned to song:
Chang! Chang, bash, chang! It's I!
WHO looks a mustang in the eye?
Fearless and bo—
His father grasped him by the arm. “Here!” he shouted. “Let ME show you how to run a strip through there. The foreman says you're some better'n you used to be, but that's no way to handle—Get out the way and let me show you once.”
“Better be careful,” Bibbs warned him, stepping to one side.
“Careful? Boh!” Sheridan seized a strip of zinc from the box. “What you talkin' to yourself about? Tryin' to make yourself think you're so abused you're goin' wrong in the head?”
“'Abused'? No!” shouted Bibbs. “I was SINGING—because I 'like it'! I told you I'd come back and 'like it.'”
Sheridan may not have understood. At all events, he made no reply, but began to run the strip of zinc through the machine. He did it awkwardly—and with bad results.
“Here!” he shouted. “This is the way. Watch how I do it. There's nothin' to it, if you put your mind on it.” By his own showing then his mind was not upon it. He continued to talk. “All you got to look out for is to keep it pressed over to—”