Calumet K | Page 3

it
could. Bannon, who, since the days when he was chief of the wrecking
gang on a division of the Grand Trunk, had made a business of rising to
emergencies, was obviously the man for the situation. He was worn
thin as an old knife-blade, he was just at the end of a piece of work that
would have entitled any other man to a vacation; but MacBride made
no apologies when he assigned him the new task--"Go down and stop
this fiddling around and get the house built. See that it's handling grain
before you come away. If you can't do it, I'll come down and do it
myself."
Bannon shook his head dubiously. "Well, I'm not sure--" he began. But
MacBride laughed, whereupon Bannon grinned in spite of himself. "All
right," he said.
It was no laughing matter, though, here on the job this Monday
morning, and, once alone in the little section house, he shook his head
again gravely. He liked Peterson too well, for one thing, to supersede
him without a qualm. But there was nothing else for it, and he took off
his overcoat, laid aside the coupling pin, and attacked the stack of blue
prints.
He worked rapidly, turning now and then from the plans for a reference

to the building book or the specifications, whistling softly, except when
he stopped to growl, from force of habit, at the office, or, with more
reasonable disapproval, at the man who made the drawings for the
annex. "Regular damn bird cage," he called it.
It was half an hour before Peterson came in. He was wiping the sweat
off his forehead with the back of his hand, and drawing long breaths
with the mere enjoyment of living. "I feel good," he said. "That's where
I'd like to work all day. You ought to go up and sledge them timbers for
a while. That'd warm you through, I bet."
"You ought to make your timekeeper give you one of those brass
checks there and pay you eighteen cents an hour for that work. That's
what I'd do."
Peterson laughed. It took more than a hint to reach him. "I have to do it.
Those laborers are no good. Honest, I can lift as much as any three men
on the job."
"That's all right if those same three don't stop to swap lies while you're
lifting."
"Well, I guess they don't come any of that on me," said Peterson,
laughing again. "How long are you going to stay with us?"
The office, then, had not told him. Bannon was for a moment at a loss
what to say. Luckily there was an interruption. The red-headed young
man he had spoken to an hour before came in, tossed a tally board on
the desk, and said that another carload of timber had come in.
"Mr. Bannon," said Peterson, "shake hands with Mr. Max Vogel, our
lumber checker." That formality attended to, he turned to Bannon and
repeated his question. By that time the other had his answer ready.
"Oh, it all depends on the office," he said. "They're bound to keep me
busy at something. I'll just stay until they tell me to go somewhere else.
They ain't happy except when they've just put me in a hole and told me
to climb out. Generally before I'm out they pick me up and chuck me

down another one. Old MacBride wouldn't think the Company was
prosperous if I wasn't working nights and Sundays."
"You won't be doing that down here."
"I don't know about that. Why, when I first went to work for 'em, they
hired me by the day. My time cards for the first years figured up four
hundred and thirty-six days." Peterson laughed. "Oh, that's straight,"
said Bannon. "Next time you're at the office, ask Brown about it. Since
then they've paid me a salary. They seem to think they'd have to go out
of business if I ever took a vacation. I've been with 'em twelve years
and they've never given me one yet. They made a bluff at it once. I was
down at Newport News, been doing a job for the C.&O., and Fred
Brown was down that way on business. He--"
"What does Brown look like?" interrupted Peterson. "I never saw him."
"You didn't! Oh, he's a good-looking young chap. Dresses kind of
sporty. He's a great jollier. You have to know him a while to find out
that he means business. Well, he came 'round and saw I was feeling
pretty tired, so he asked me to knock off for a week and go fishing with
him. I did, and it was the hardest work I ever tackled."
"Did you get any fish?"
"Fish? Whales! You'd no sooner threw your line over