“You'd shiver like a dog in a briar path on a warm day in July,” said Jackson Hines contemptuously.
“Shut up!” said they. “You're barn-boss. You don't have to be out in th' cold.”
This was true. So Jackson's intervention went for a little worse than nothing.
“It ain't lak' he has nuttin' besides,” went on Baptiste. “He can mak' de cut in de meedle of de fores'.”
“That's right,” agreed Bob Stratton, “they's the west half of eight ain't been cut yet.”
So they sent a delegation to Radway. Big Nolan was the spokesman.
“Boss,” said he bluntly, “she's too cold to work on them plains to-day. She's the coldest day we had.”
Radway was too old a hand at the business to make any promises on the spot.
“I'll see, boys,” said he.
When the breakfast was over the crew were set to making skidways and travoy roads on eight. This was a precedent. In time the work on the plains was grumblingly done in any weather. However, as to this Radway proved firm enough. He was a good fighter when he knew he was being imposed on. A man could never cheat or defy him openly without collecting a little war that left him surprised at the jobber's belligerency. The doubtful cases, those on the subtle line of indecision, found him weak. He could be so easily persuaded that he was in the wrong. At times it even seemed that he was anxious to be proved at fault, so eager was he to catch fairly the justice of the other man's attitude. He held his men inexorably and firmly to their work on the indisputably comfortable days; but gave in often when an able-bodied woodsman should have seen in the weather no inconvenience, even. As the days slipped by, however, he tightened the reins. Christmas was approaching. An easy mathematical computation reduced the question of completing his contract with Morrison & Daly to a certain weekly quota. In fact he was surprised at the size of it. He would have to work diligently and steadily during the rest of the winter.