"I want to quit when the week's up," he said.
"Why?" Thirlwell asked, looking hard at him.
"For one thing, I've put up most of the new timbers and guess she'll hold for a while. Then I sure don't like that Metis kid. Reckon I'll kill him if I stop."
"Do what you think best," said Thirlwell, who saw he must get rid of one and would sooner keep Drummond. "If you come back later, we may find you a job."
At the end of the week, Driscoll went off into the bush, and after supper Thirlwell sent for Drummond. Scott was sitting near him outside the shack when the young man came up.
"If you make any fresh trouble here, you know what's coming to you," Scott remarked. "Steve is a good miner and it won't pay us to keep you and let him go."
"I guess you won't find the boys are sorry he lit out. There's something wrong about the man."
"If that's so, it's not your business," Thirlwell rejoined. "But why did you tell him he was scared of the rapid?"
Drummond sat down on a fir-stump and grinned with frank amusement. He had finished his duty until the next shift went under ground and in the meantime his employers had no authority over him. Indeed, he felt that he had conceded something by coming when he was sent for, and he might not have done so had he not liked Thirlwell.
"Because Steve certainly was scared," he replied.