“Them men,” says Silas.
“What about ’em?”
“They’ll come to work,” says Silas. “I seen all of them, but they got together and made up one of them unions or somethin’. Yes, sir, that’s what they done. Seems like they was afraid maybe they wouldn’t git paid. I argued with them and sassed them till my tongue was blistered, but ’twan’t no good. Best I could git out of ’em was that they’d work by the day and git paid every night. If they git paid the first night they’ll work the second day, if they git paid the second night they’ll work the third day, and so on. But no pay—no work.”
“Um!” says Mark. “How many of ’em?”
“Nine,” says Silas.
“What wages?”
“Mostly two dollars a day.”
“Some more?”
“A couple gits two and a quarter, and one, the sawyer, he gits two seventy-five.”
“Twenty dollars’ll do it. Now, Silas, if you was g-goin’ to raise twenty dollars to-morrow, how’d you go at it?”