He became more insulting, using terms unbearable even in a construction camp, but Kermode did not answer him.
“Keep her going, boys,” he said.
They made another few yards, gasping, panting, with dripping faces; and then the work grew easier as they crossed the top of the ascent.
“Push!” said Kermode. “Send her along!”
They looked at him in surprise. It was getting dark, but they could still see his face, which was quietly resolute; he evidently meant what he said, and they obeyed him. The big car began to move more freely, and they waited for an order to slacken the pace; but their leader seemed to be increasing his exertions and his eyes gleamed.
“He told us to push, boys!” he reminded them. “Rush her ahead!”
Then comprehension dawned on them. The foreman had dropped behind, satisfied, perhaps, with bullying them, but every man taxed his tired muscles for a last effort. The wheels turned faster, the men broke into a run, and none of them was astonished when a warning cry rose behind them.
“Go on!” shouted Kermode. “He’ll hold me responsible! You know what to do!”
Men along the line called to them as they passed, and they answered with a breathless yell. The car was gathering speed, and they kept it going. There were further warnings, but they held on, until Kermode raised his voice harshly:
“A good shove, boys, and let her go!”