"How do you feel now, Dale?" asked Owen, after the doctor and the majority of the men had departed.
"I feel a good deal better than I did before those joints were set, Owen. How they hurt!"
"You were lucky not to have something broken, and I was lucky, too."
"How did that chain happen to break?"
"I don't know. It was rusty-looking. Perhaps one of the links was rusted through."
"Do you suppose Mr. Balasco will hold us responsible for the accident?"
"I don't see how he can. We took the chains that were given us and fastened them just as the others were fastened. If the links were weak, that wasn't our fault."
"It was the jouncing, I think, broke the chain. That roadbed is in a vile condition."
In a few days Owen was well enough to go to work. In the meantime the doctor continued to call upon Dale, and told him that he might be able to get around in a week or ten days, but that he must not attempt to do real heavy work for at least a month.
When Owen reported to Larson, the foreman told him Mr. Balasco wanted to see him at the office.