Streaks of dingy haze that looked like steam rose from the river.  The fresh smell of pines hung about the track, and the clash of shovels and ringing of hammers mingled harmoniously with the deep-toned roar of the rapids.  The cold braced the muscles and stirred the blood, and the sounds of activity had an invigorating influence while the day was young, but Charnock felt slack.  His pain had gone, but he was conscious of a nervous tension and knew what it meant.  A small blister on his hand annoyed him, he growled at comrades who got in his way, and swore when the gravel fell in the wrong place.  Somehow he could not get the stuff to go where it ought.

For all that, he felt no serious inconvenience until about eleven o’clock, when a stinging pain spread across the front of his body.  For a few moments he leaned on his shovel and gasped, but the pang moderated and he roused himself when the foreman looked his way.  He must try to hold out for another hour, and he savagely attacked his pile of stones.  When the echoes of the whistle filled the hollow he had some trouble in reaching the bunk-house, but felt better after dinner and a smoke, which he enjoyed sitting on a box by the stove; but the time for rest was short.  The foreman drove him out, and feeling very sore and stiff, he resumed work.

About four o’clock another pang shot through him and he dropped his shovel and sat down on a heap of ties, hoping to get a few minutes’ rest before the gravel train came up.  The pain was troublesome, but not dangerous.  It might only bother him for a day or two, but it might last a week.  Rest was the best cure, but sick men were not wanted at the camp.  One must work or go, and when a cascade of gravel poured off the cars as the plow moved along he pulled himself together.

It began to rain soon afterwards and he had left his slickers at the bunk-house, but he stuck to his work, while the sweat the effort caused him ran down his face, until the whistle blew.  Then he went limply up the hill to Festing’s shack.

“I thought I’d have supper with you, if you don’t mind,” he said.  “Felt I couldn’t stand for joining the boys.  They’ve annoyed me all day and eat like hogs.”

Festing gave him a sharp glance.  Bob did not often lose his temper, but he looked morose.

“Of course I don’t mind.  Sit down.”

Charnock did so, and when Festing had filled his plate resumed:  “This food is decently cooked, and I like my supper served and not thrown at me.  Still, in view of what we’re charged for board, it’s annoying to think the contractor will be richer for a meal I haven’t got.”

“It’s a new thing to find you parsimonious.  I hope you’ll keep it up.”

Charnock’s gloomy face softened.  “I mean to.  I’m thinking of Sadie’s feelings when I come home with a wad of five-dollar bills.  She won’t be surprised; she’ll get a shock.”