"Mappin's going to handle the transport, I guess. That man's surely on to a soft thing. I s'pose you know he's making his pile out of the Rain Bluff?"
Mrs. Graham glanced at her son in rebuke.
"I don't think you should talk to Mr. Allinson in that manner, Jim. He's a good deal older and more experienced than you are."
"Your ideas are out of date, Mother; we've grown ahead of them. Mr. Allinson doesn't look as if he minded. Anyway, he doesn't know as much as I do about the Canadian contractor." He turned to Andrew. "Do you like it up yonder?"
"Yes," Andrew answered good-humoredly; "I like the work better than anything I remember having done."
"A matter of taste. Now, I can't see much amusement in rolling rocks about or standing in wet slickers in a dark pit watching the boys punch the drills."
"Mr. Allinson is not doing it for amusement," said his mother.
"Well, money isn't often made that way. You don't get rich by knowing how to use the hammer and giant-powder."
"I believe that's true," Andrew responded with a smile.
"A sure thing! Money is made by sitting tight in your office and hiring other fellows to do the rough work. They break up the rocks and cut the milling logs; you take the profit. It's business, first and last, for mine!"