MacMurtrey, tall, lanky and irascible, shouted at the red-haired man from a little distance up the line.
"Hey, O'Toole!"
The red-haired man paid no attention.
"O'Toole!" It came in a bellow from the road boss. "You, there, O'Toole, you wooden-headed mud-picker, are you deaf!"
Sammy Durgan looked up to get a line on the disturbance—and caught his breath.
"By glory!" whispered Sammy Durgan to himself. "I was near forgetting—'tis me he's yelling at."
"O'Too——"
"Yes, sir!" shouted Sammy Durgan hurriedly.
"Oh, you woke up, have you?" shrilled MacMurtrey. "Well, when you've got those stakes loaded, take 'em down the grade and leave 'em by the old spur. And take it easy on the grade, and mind your brakes going down—understand?"
"Yes, sir," said Sammy Durgan.