CHAPTER XXV
THE STOKERS
“COMPLETE, isn’t it?” Estrada was leading Innes Hardin through the engineers’ quarters.
“Yes, it’s complete!”
Her brother had told her at breakfast that morning how grandly they had been wasting time! She would not let herself admire the precision of the arrangements, the showers back of the white men’s quarters, the mesquit-shaded kitchen. Gerty’s elaborate settling was of a piece, it would seem, with the new management. Housekeeping, not fighting, then, the new order of things!
Tom was afire to get his gate done. She knew what it meant to him; to the valley. The flood waters had to be controlled. That depended, Tom had proved to her, on the gate. And the men dance and play house, as if they were children, and every day counting!
She thought she was keeping her accusations to herself, but Estrada was watching her face.
“We are here, you know, for a siege. There are months of work ahead, hot months, hard months. The men have got to be kept well and contented. We can’t lose any time by sickness”— He wanted to add “and dissensions.” The split camp was painful to him, an Estrada. “Even after we finish the gate, if we do finish it—”
She wheeled on him, her eyes gleaming like deep yellow jewels. “You’ve never thought we could finish it!”
Estrada hesitated over his answer.
“You are a friend of Tom’s, Mr. Estrada?”