Thorpe looked at his companion fixedly. Somehow the bestial countenance had taken on an attraction of its own. He remembered Big Junko as a wild beast when his passions were aroused, as a man whose honesty had been doubted.
“You've changed, Junko,” said he.
“I know,” said the big man. “I been a scalawag all right. I quit it. I don't know much, but Carrie she's smart, and I'm goin' to do what she says. When you get stuck on a good woman like Carrie, Mr. Thorpe, you don't give much of a damn for anything else. Sure! That's right! It's the biggest thing top o' earth!”
Here it was again, the opposing creed. And from such a source. Thorpe's iron will contracted again.
“A woman is no excuse for a man's neglecting his work,” he snapped.
“Shorely not,” agreed Junko serenely. “I aim to finish out my time all right, Mr. Thorpe. Don't you worry none about that. I done my best for you. And,” went on the riverman in the expansion of this unwonted confidence with his employer, “I'd like to rise to remark that you're the best boss I ever had, and we boys wants to stay with her till there's skating in hell!”
“All right,” murmured Thorpe indifferently.
His momentary interest had left him. Again the reactionary weariness dragged at his feet. Suddenly the remaining half mile to town seemed very long indeed.