“’Tis jest below us, an’ ’tis sure the crame of the pickings up here.”
“And where is Big Ben’s camp?”
“Jest forninst the big tract, aboot three miles down the lake.”
“How big a camp is it?” was Bob’s next question.
“About the same as this,” Tom replied, as he filled his pipe.
“You said everything was going fine, didn’t you?” Bob asked, after a short pause during which Tom got his pipe drawing to his satisfaction.
“Sure I said thot same, an’ so it is up to the presint, but I dunno,” and the foreman had a worried look about his eyes which Bob was quick to notice.
“What do you mean, Tom?” he asked anxiously, for he knew that Tom did not worry about trifles.
Tom Bean did not reply for some time and then, as Bob repeated his question, he told them a strange tale.