"If I can get the men, it is! Swinnerton stole
my last gang--seventy-five of 'em. The blamed little porcupine offered
'em two bits more than we're payin' an' grabbed every one of 'em. The
Old Man has wired Denver for a hundred more muckers. Swinnerton can't
keep takin' men on all year. He's got more now than he knows what to
do with. I guess this gang 'll come on through. As soon as they come,
Tommy, I'll have that big dam growin' faster'n you ever saw a dam grow
before."
For half an hour the two men talked, and Conniston lay back listening.
In spite of Bat Truxton's sour acceptance of him, Conniston began to
feel a decided liking for the old engineer. After all, he told
himself, were he in Truxton's place he would have small liking for
putting a green man on the job. He realized that there was nothing
personal in Truxton's attitude toward him. Truxton was not looking for
a man, but for an efficient, reliable machine, one that had already
been tested and found to be strong, trustworthy, infallible.
Again the question had been put to him, "What have you done?" And it
was nobody's fault but his that he had done nothing.
"I wish you had two legs, Tommy," Truxton said, when at last he got up
and went to the door. "You an' me workin' together out there--well,
we'd make things jump, that's all."
Tommy laughed, but his sensitive mouth twitched as though with a sharp
physical pain.
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