“Yes, fully that; before you came, you know,” replied the prairie boy.
“But there has been no occasion for a change since then, eh?” Bob continued.
“Things seem to have just drifted along somehow,” the other answered.
“Yet you heard grumblings every little while, didn’t you?” Bob asked.
“We sure did; but anybody who has a big gang of men working, expects that sort of thing; and Gustave Riley seemed to know how to handle the miners. He’s pretty much of a tyrant in some things; but then it takes a strong hand to manage thirty or forty rough characters, such as we employ.”
“Well, it looks now pretty much as if the cork had popped out of the bottle. If the men have struck, the trouble is apt to be all the harder to manage because it has held off so long, Frank.”
“I suppose that’s right,” remarked the other, gloomily.
“But see here,” Bob continued, as he watched the actions of the lone sentinel who waited their coming; “McCoy doesn’t seem to be as much tickled as he was. Fact is, Frank, he looks a bit disappointed.”
At that Frank laughed a little.
“Well,” he said, “wouldn’t you, if you had sent for help, and saw only a couple of boys coming in answer to your letter?”