"Trimmins has got a gang wo'kin' for him over th' mountain a piece——"
"Here comes dad now," said the sharp-eyed Virginia. "And the elder's with him."
"Why—ya-as," drawled her mother, "so 'tis. It's one of Concannon's timber lots Trimmins is a-wo'kin' at."
The elder, vigorous and bewhiskered, came tramping into the clearing like a much younger man. Trimmins slouched along by his side, chewing a twig of black birch.
"No, Trimmins," the elder was saying decisively. "We'll stick to the letter of the contract. I furnish the team and feed them. I went a step further and furnished supplies for three men instead of two. But not one penny do you nor they handle till the job is finished."
"That's all right, Elder," drawled the Georgian. "That's 'cordin' to contrac', I know. I don't keer for myself. But Narnay and that other feller are mighty hongree for a li'le change."
"Powerful thirsty, ye mean!" snorted the elder.
"Wa-al—mebbe so! mebbe so!" agreed Trimmins, with a weak grin.
"They knew the agreement before they started in with you on the job, didn't they?"
"Oh, ya-as. They knowed about the contrac'."