"I had to hold up a dozen men while that shot was fired, and the rain has kept us back lately. Now a boss contractor knows how many yards of dirt a man can move in a day and how much rock you ought to shift with a stick of giant-powder. It's easy figuring how far the road should be pushed ahead for the money spent, and I've got to keep up to schedule."
Andrew studied the man. He looked hard, capable of getting the most out of his subordinates, but not brutal.
"Then no allowances are made?" he suggested.
"No, sir; not on a Mappin job. You have to put through the work or get!"
He left them and Andrew turned to Carnally.
"Is the shack these fellows live in better or worse than the average?" he asked.
"Worse. The boys are often quite comfortably fixed."
"What about the food?"
"You can judge for yourself," Carnally drawled. "It's the meanest hash I ever struck; and you want to remember it's no fault of the cook's. The stuff is mighty bad when a Chinaman can't dish it up fit to eat."
"Are the men boarded free?"