bitten into the raw. The timbers of the last bent were specially heavy,
and the men, more or less fagged with their hard driving, didn't spring
to their work with the alacrity that Tom deemed suitable.

"At it, min!" he roared. "Snatch it alive! Begob, ye'd think it
was plate glass ye're liftin', ye're so tinder about it! Now thin!
Togither-r-r--heave! Once again, heave! Ye didn't git it an inch that
time! Stidy there a minute! Here you min on that pike, what in the
blank, blank are ye bunchin' in one ind loike a swarm av bees on a cowld
day! Shift over there, will ye!"

In obedience to the word two pike-poles were withdrawn at the same
moment, leaving only a single pike with Big Angus and two others to
sustain the full weight of the heavy timbers. Immediately the bent
swayed backward as if to fall upon the throng below. Some of the men
sprang back from under the huge bent. It was a moment of supreme peril.

"Howld there, fer yer lives, ye divils!" howled Tom, "or the hull of
ye'll be in hell in two howly minutes."

At the cry Barney and Rory sprang to Angus's side and threw themselves
upon the pike. Immediately they were followed by others, and the
calamity was averted.

"Up wid her now thin, me lads, God bliss ye!" cried Tom. But there was
a new note in Tom's voice, the note that is heard when men stand in the
presence of serious danger. There was no more pause. The bent was
walked up to its place, pinned and made secure. Tom sprang down from the
building, his face white, his voice shaking. "Give me yer hand, Barney
Boyle, an' yours, Rory Ross, for be all the saints an' the Blessid