"I was 'specting you to ask that, Mr. Payne," was the drawled reply. "I got this to say: I know Garman, but that's all. I dig ditches for my living. I dig 'em fast and I dig 'em good; and—and that's all I'm up here for, one way or 'nother."
"Right! and the faster you dig 'em, the better it will suit me."
"Me, too," was the earnest reply.
Roger looked at the man sharply.
"Why? Don't you like the job?"
"The job's all right. I've said I'd dig 'em, and I'll dig 'em fast. But the quicker I get done, and the quicker I get my outfit pointed downstream again, and the quicker I'm out of this river, the better suited I'll be. That's all I'm saying."
Roger laughed grimly.
"You talk like you'd had dealings with Garman before, White?"
"That's all I'm saying," repeated the man. Then suddenly: "What's that?"
A clear shaft of light pierced the moonmist ahead, lighting a broad space in the river from the next bend down to the tug. While they watched in fascination the light came nearer, flashing in their eyes, and behind it resounded the unmistakable hum of the Egret's engines. Compared to the crawling pace of the tug the yacht seemed to leap out of the night straight at them.