It seemed a cumbersome, impatient bit of railroading. And in that curious moment of detachment, Tesno felt that he was watching a race of madmen at play. Obsessed with money and mechanics, they wouldn't rest till they had driven steel toys over this ragged sea of mountains to a remote corner of the land. And why? Was it really an accomplishment to bring the thing called civilization to Puget Sound? "All this to reach a little bay tucked away between the fingers of land on the West Coast." The thought amused him and he laughed aloud.
"What's funny?" Ben demanded.
Tesno grinned uncomfortably. "Sort of a private joke."
Ben shot him an impatient look and went to consult with a pair of engineers who were studying a diagram, holding it between them with their backs to the wind. Hearing a chuckle behind him, Tesno turned and found himself confronting a tall, hawk-faced man leaning on a shovel.
"A gun tough who's a philosopher," the workman said. "Now that is something."
"And a shovel bum with educated diction. That's something, too."
The man hesitated, then extended his hand. He was bone thin, a little stooped, and his smile was sad. "Name's Dave Coons. Itinerant actor, confidence man, peddlar, phrenologist, and what have you. Currently a shovel bum, doing a bit of soul-saving on the side."
Tesno shook hands without heartiness. "A preacher?"
"Somebody has to carry the word to these poor bastards." Coons waved a hand to indicate the workmen around him.
"And take up a collection?"