“Well?”
“She wouldn’t do it.”
“Well?”
“She said she’d come up and help, an’ if my old woman wanted any she might have it. That ain’t no way to treat a man.”
“No,” said Lyndsay, with such emphasis as satisfied his own conscience, and also the duller sense of the lumberman. “No,—that is not the way to treat a man. Listen to me, Joe: Don’t drink any more.”
“I ain’t any,” said Joe.
“Really?”
“Not a drop. It was just a bit I had left.”
“Come to me when it is all over, and I will pay the doctor’s bill, and you can help clear off the brush back of my cabin.”
“Thank you, sir.”