"
"It's the work of a Chinaman, and a four days' job," broke in the Left
Bower.
"It took one white man only two hours to clean out a third of it,"
retorted the Old Man triumphantly, "for I pitched in at once with a pick
he let me have on credit, and did that amount of work this morning, and
told him the rest of you boys would finish it this afternoon."
A slight gesture from the Right Bower checked an angry exclamation from
the Left. The Old Man did not notice either, but, knitting his smooth
young brow in a paternally reflective fashion, went on: "You'll have
to get a new pair of trousers, Mills, but as he doesn't keep clothing,
we'll have to get some canvas and cut you out a pair. I traded off the
beans he let me have for some tobacco for the Right Bower at the other
shop, and got them to throw in a new pack of cards. These are about
played out. We'll be wanting some brushwood for the fire; there's a heap
in the hollow. Who's going to bring it in? It's the Judge's turn, isn't
it? Why, what's the matter with you all?"
The restraint and evident uneasiness of his companions had at last
touched him.
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