“Well? You have seen him?”
“Yes. I have now come to report myself ready for work,” Tresler replied at once. He adopted a cold business tone, deeming it best to observe this from the start.
To his surprise Jake became almost cordial. “Good. We can do with some hands, sure. Had a pleasant talk with the old man?” The question came indifferently, but a sidelong glance accompanied it as the foreman turned away and gazed out over the distant prairie.
“I have,” replied Tresler, shortly. “What are my orders, and where do I sleep?”
“Then you don’t sleep up at the house?” Jake inquired, pretending surprise. There was a slight acidity in his tone.
“That is hardly to be expected when the foreman sleeps down there.” Tresler nodded, indicating the outbuildings.
“That’s so,” observed the other, thoughtfully. “No, I guess the old man don’t fancy folk o’ your kidney around,” he went on, relapsing into the speech of the bunkhouse unguardedly. “Mebbe it’s different wi’ the other.”
Tresler could have struck him as he beheld the meaning smile that accompanied the fellow’s words.
“Where do I sleep?” he demanded sharply.
“Oh, I guess you’ll roll into the bunkhouse. Likely the boys’ll fix you for blankets till your truck comes along. As for orders, why, we start work at sunup, and Slushy dips out breakfast before that. Guess I’ll put you to work in the morning; you can’t do a deal yet, but maybe you’ll learn.”