“Well,” he said, “you may stay there until I’ve started the boys in the adit. Then I will come back and talk to you.”
He moved away, and one of those he left relieved his feelings by hurling another stone which crashed upon the iron roof of the shanty.
“That’s a hustler—a speeder-up,” he said. “You can’t monkey with him.”
They waited for about an hour before the man came back, and, sitting down on a fir stump, called them up one by one. Weston was reassured to see that each was despatched in turn to the log building where he presumed the tools were kept; but he and Grenfell were left to the last, and he was somewhat anxious when he walked toward the stump. The man who sat there glanced at his attire.
“Been up against it lately?” he inquired.
Weston admitted that this was the case; and the other smiled dryly.
“Can you chop and shovel?” he asked.
Weston said that he could; and the miner appeared to consider.
“Well,” he said, “I’ll put you on at——,” mentioning terms which Weston fancied were as favorable as he was likely to get. “Still, you’ll have to hustle, and we charge usual tariff for board. You may start in.”
Weston glanced toward Grenfell, who was still sitting where he had left him.