Wheeler laughed and indicated a chair. “If you’re resolved, we won’t hold you longer than you want; but suppose you let me talk? To begin with, I have not a pick on Austin. Bob’s a useful man, but I don’t know if he’s the proper man to stay at the bridge. If you quit, you’ll get your pay up to date, but you want to consider. In winter, Canada’s a pretty hard country. You’d find the labor agents have no use for a tenderfoot, and the cheap boarding-houses are crowded by broken roustabouts, waiting for the spring. Since the war I reckon the dollar hotels have shut down. However, if your wad is big——”
“My wad is not big. For all that, I’m not going to take Austin’s post.”
“Very well! You claimed you were not a fool. Suppose I send you East? If the company tried you out at the office, would it meet the bill?”
“I’d be glad to go,” said Kit. “Since I meant to bluff you, you’re generous.”
“Then, it’s fixed, but until the frost stops us, we want you at the bridge. I guess that’s all, and you won’t talk to Austin about it.”
Kit went off. He had not helped Austin, but he had done all he promised to do, and to know he would pay for his meddling was some relief. Since he could not bluff Wheeler, there was no use in hurting himself.
For a week, rain and snow embarrassed the workmen. Sometimes in the morning the mud about the camp was frozen and hoar frost sparkled on the trees, but in a few hours the rain began. The swollen river undermined the bank, and the material stacked along the track sank in the mire. To handle the wet and greasy steel was awkward, but arctic winter would soon arrive, and the work was stubbornly pushed on.
Then a telegram called Wheeler to the company’s office and the strain got worse, for the gangs did not stop at night, and somebody besides the foremen must be about. Kit thought the extra effort bothered Austin, and when he returned one stormy evening to the shack he found Bob by the stove. His face was pinched and he was wrapped in a blanket.
“I was forced to stop, but I’m getting warm,” he said in an apologetic voice. “If you think all’s pretty straight, I’ll go to bed after supper. A good sleep will fix me up.”
Kit said he did not expect trouble, and for an hour or two he meant to loaf. To pull off his muddy boots and wet slickers was some relief, and after supper he carried his chair to the stove and lighted his pipe. Austin, sitting opposite rested his feet on a box. His pose was slack, and sometimes he shivered.