Part 9 (1/2)
”What is it?” Andrew asked. ”What knocked me and the other fellows over?”
”Giant-powder gas. Some kinds are worse than others, though they're all poisonous. Sit quiet while it works off.”
After a while Andrew's head got clearer and the pain less severe, and then Carnally took him to the log-building, where supper was ready.
Finding him a seat at the end of a long table, he handed him a pannikin of strong tea. Andrew felt better when he had drunk it, and he began to look about.
The building was a wretched, decrepit hovel. The logs were small and sagged in the middle; one could hardly stand up in the room; and the rain that had run in through the leaking roof stood in pools on the earthen floor. The bunks consisted of two split-board ledges against the walls, littered with dirty, damp blankets and miry clothing which filled the place with a sour, unpleasant smell. The long table which ran up the middle of the one room was crowded with unkempt men, eating voraciously and talking in what Andrew presently recognized as Norwegian, though he thought he caught a word or two of German occasionally. A very neat Chinaman laid a plate before him; but, hungry as he had been before he breathed the powder fumes, he revolted from the food. The greasy pork smelt rancid; the potatoes were rotten.
”I couldn't eat this if I were feeling fit,” he said disgustedly.
Carnally called the Chinaman, who took the plate away and subst.i.tuted a piece of pie and one or two desiccated apricots. This was better, and Andrew ate a little, although he suspected that there was something wrong with the lard used in the pie, and the fruit was small and worm-eaten.
”Let's get out,” he said. ”I don't think I'm dainty, but this place is too much for me.”
Leaving the building, they sat down at the foot of a rock which kept the drizzle off them. Andrew breathed the clean fragrance of the pines with delight.
”This is a great improvement,” he declared. ”Will you tell Lucien to pitch our tent where there's shelter?”
”As you wish,” said Carnally. ”I had figured on our sleeping and getting breakfast in the shack.”
”Heavens, no!”
Andrew lighted his pipe.
”I've recovered enough to feel curious. How did the accident happen?
The men who use it must know that the fumes of giant-powder are dangerous; why didn't they wait?”
”It might be better if I let the man responsible explain.”
Carnally beckoned the foreman.
”Mr. Allinson wants to know why you didn't keep the boys back until the fumes had cleared.”
”I gave them about the usual time; but it looks as if I'd cut it too fine. Guess the damp and there being no wind stopped the gas from getting away. Besides, we're not using a high-grade powder.”
”But if there was any doubt, couldn't you have given them another few minutes?” Andrew asked.
The foreman smiled.
”I had to hold up a dozen men while that shot was fired, and the rain has kept us back lately. Now a boss contractor knows how many yards of dirt a man can move in a day and how much rock you ought to s.h.i.+ft with a stick of giant-powder. It's easy figuring how far the road should be pushed ahead for the money spent, and I've got to keep up to schedule.”
Andrew studied the man. He looked hard, capable of getting the most out of his subordinates, but not brutal.
”Then no allowances are made?” he suggested.
”No, sir; not on a Mappin job. You have to put through the work or get!”
He left them and Andrew turned to Carnally.
”Is the shack these fellows live in better or worse than the average?”