“At present it’s a question of pitching out other fellows’ coal.” Then lower: “See here, Gedge, I want two words with you.”
“No you don’t. None of us didn’t come up here for ‘words.’ No, nor to try and patch up the captain’s mistakes by turnin’ ourselves into beasts o’ burden.” Cheviot lowered his voice and argued a moment or two, Gedge bursting in with remarks intended to assure his satellites that he wasn’t being “got at.” But Cheviot pressed him hard.
“Coolies crawled up the ladder with vast burdens”
“Well, I’ll tell you what we’ll do. If we ain’t goin’ to get out of this fix without we turn to and help that fool captain—tell you what we’ll do, boys. If we got to work, we’ll work for Nome wages. Hey, boys? Ten dollars an hour.”
“Oh, see here!” said Cheviot, “the captain can’t play up to that lead.”
“Any feller,” shouted Gedge, “that works for a penny less’n ten dollars an hour is lowerin’ the market. He’s an enemy to society. He’s a—”
“He’s simply a fellow with a notion he’d like to get to Nome. I thought you were a pretty sharp customer, Gedge, but you’re just an every-day sort of ass after all.” With which Cheviot climbed back over the crates whistling, as though his momentary concern were at an end.
“Hello!” O’Gorman called out. Cheviot turned aside, when he caught sight of the giant towering over the nook where the two women sat out of the wind.