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