This little bit of business being settled, we all pitched in to assist in getting supper ready, and presently we were seated round Tom’s table testing the result of our cookery. As we sat there, Joe, pointing to a window-sash and some planed and fitted lumber which stood leaning against the wall, asked:
“What are you going to do with that, Tom? Put in a second window?”
“Yes,” replied our host. “And I was intending to do it this evening. You can help me now you’re here. The stuff is all ready; all we have to do is to cut the hole in the wall and slap it in. It’s just one sash, not intended to open and shut, so it’s a simple job enough.”
“Where does it go?” asked Joe.
“There, on the right-hand side of the door. Old man Snyder, in the next house west, put one in some time ago, and it’s such an improvement that I decided to do the same. We’ll step out presently and look at Snyder’s, and then you’ll see. Hallo! Come in!”
This shout was occasioned by a tapping at the door, and in response to Tom’s call there stepped in a tall miner, whom I recognized as George Simpson, one of the Pelican men.
“Come in, George,” cried our host. “Come in and have some supper. What’s new?”
“No, I won’t take any supper, thank ye,” replied the miner. “I must get along home. I just dropped in to speak to you. You know Arty Burns?—works on the night shift? Well, Arty’s sick. When he came up to the mine to-night he was too sick to stand, so I packed him off home again and told him to go to bed where he belonged and I’d see to it that somebody went on in his place, so that he shouldn’t lose his job. I’m proposing to work half his shift for him myself, and I want to find somebody——”
“All right, George,” Connor cut in. “I’ll take the other half. Which do you want? First or second?”
“Second, if it’s all the same to you, Tom. If I don’t get home first my old woman will think there’s something the matter. So, if you don’t mind, you can go on first and I’ll relieve you at half-time.”