In his sense of irritation at a conscientious duty to perform and no clear notion of how to discharge it, he made believe it was the difficulty in finding the rubber sheet he didn't want that made him out of sorts.
"It's bitter work, anyhow, this making beds with your fingers stiff and raw," he said.
"Is it?"
Dignity looked at Impudence sitting in the shelter, smiling.
"Humph! Just try it," growled the Colonel.
"I s'pose the man over the fire cookin' supper does look better off than the 'pore pardner' cuttin' down trees and makin' beds in the snow. But he isn't."
"Oh, isn't he?" It was all right, but the Big Chimney boss felt he had chosen the lion's share of the work in electing to be woodman; still, it wasn't that that troubled him. Now, what was it he had been going to say about the Jesuits? Something very telling.
"If you mean that you'd rather go back to the cookin'," the Boy was saying, "I'm agreeable."
"Well, you start in to-morrow, and see if you're so agreeable."
"All right. I think I dote on one job just about as much as I do on t'other."