“Bill is like that, but I reckon you don’t get us,” Gordon remarked with a grin. “You want to remember you have done with the Old Country.”
“It’s rather obvious,” said Kit. “All the same, I begin to think a good Canadian’s a first-class type. I won’t bother you by examples, but I met a young fellow at Winnipeg station I’d like to meet another time. However, Jock expects some music, and I’m in the mood to play a rousing tune.”
CHAPTER XIV
THE WATER CURE
In the morning Kit went to the forge. When he arrived the smith was pulling about some iron, but by and by he gave Kit a nod.
“You cut them potatoes?”
“I expect you ate some for supper.”
“Maybe so,” agreed the smith. “I don’t claim I’m sick!”
Kit studied the fellow. Nothing indicated that he was humorous. His glance was hard and he pushed forward his heavy jaw. Kit, however, did not think him antagonistic. For the most part the bridge gang were a sober lot.
“Shall I start the blower for you?” he inquired.
“You can start your wheel and grind them tools,” replied Bill.