“It’s pretty thin picking for some of the boys, I suppose,” said David.
“Huh! Some of ’em’s lucky to have their britches left to come out in.”
“I didn’t expect to get rich at it, but I wanted the experience,” replied David, wondering why Avery seemed so anxious to impress him with the wage aspect of lumbering.
“Don’t calc’late you ever did any spec’latin’, did you?”
“Well, I have done some since I had my fuss with Harrigan this morning.”
Avery tugged at his beard thoughtfully.
“I’m turnin’ a penny onct in a while or frequenter. With the trappin’ winters, feedin’ the crews goin’ in and comin’ out, makin’ axe-handles and snowshoes, and onct in a spell guidin’ some city feller in the fall up to whar he kin dinnimite a moose, I reckon six hundred dollars wouldn’t cover my earnin’s. I could do more trappin’ if I had a partner. Mebby me and him could make nigh on to five hundred a year, and grub.”
“That’s pretty good,—five hundred clear, practically.”
“Ya-a-s.” Avery grunted and stood up, thrusting his pipe in his pocket. “Said I was huntin’ fur a man when you ast me. You’re the man I be huntin’ fur if you want a job bad ’nough to hitch up with me, and Swickey.”
Ross arose and faced him, his surprise evident in the blank expression of his face.