“Trent,” he said suddenly, “you're a wonderful man. Honestly, this road is a marvellous feat for untrained labour and with such rotten odds and ends of machinery. I don't know what experience you'd had of road-making.”
“None,” Trent interjected.
“Then it's wonderful!”
Trent smiled upon the boy with such a smile as few people had ever seen upon his lips.
“There's a bit of credit to you, Davenant,” he said. “I'd never have been able to figure out the levelling alone. Whether I go down or not, this shall be a good step up on the ladder for you.”
The boy laughed.
“I've enjoyed it more than anything else in my life,” he said. “Fancy the difference between this and life in a London office. It's been magnificent! I never dreamed what life was like before.”
Trent looked thoughtfully into the red embers. “You had the mail to-day,” the boy continued. “How were things in London?”
“Not so bad,” Trent answered. “Cathcart has been doing all the harm he can, but it hasn't made a lot of difference. My cables have been published and our letters will be in print by now, and the photographs you took of the work. That was a splendid idea!”
“And the shares?”