“The argument is sound,” Festing agreed. “In fact, it shows more understanding than I'd expect the boys to use.”
Kerr looked hard at him. “I suspect that somebody is stirring them up. You see, they haven't demanded more wages yet; they only claim that I ought to hustle you.”
“The fellow's object isn't very plain, but I've no doubt the demand for bigger pay will come. Well, we can't hire more help, and if there's no change soon, the frost will break us without your bothering. We'll do our best until then.”
“We'll leave it at that,” said Kerr, with a sympathetic nod; and when he went away Charnock turned to Festing.
“Wilkinson's the man, and as the boys have a real grievance he'll find them easy to work on. That means I've got to write to Sadie.”
“No,” said Festing. “If you write, I stop. Your wife has sent you money enough, and I'm afraid some of it is lost. We must trust to luck, and in the meantime we'll fire the shot.”
He blew a whistle and then striking a match lighted the fuse and hurried away. A minute or two later, lumps of frozen gravel flew about the track and showers of smaller fragments scattered the snow. As Festing came out of his shelter a man with an angry look advanced along the line.
“Why don't you warn folks before you shoot off your rocks?” he asked.
“My partner whistled,” Charnock answered. “What's the matter, anyhow? Did the shot jar your nerves?”
“A rock a foot across mighty near jarred my head! A smaller piece got me plumb on the ribs.”