Part 21 (2/2)
Though the nights were getting cold, the days were still very hot, and those engaged in it found the work of propelling a steel car carrying about thirty tons of stone over rails laid roughly on a slight upward grade remarkably arduous. This, however, did not content the foreman. He took two men away; and when those whom he left had been worked to exhaustion, he changed them, with the exception of Kermode, who was kept steadily at the task. As a result, he came to be looked on as leader of the gang, and his companions took their instructions from him, which the foreman concurred in, because it enabled him to hold Kermode responsible for everything that went wrong.
Then the pay car arrived, and when wages were drawn, the men awaited developments with interest; but nothing unusual occurred until a week had pa.s.sed. Kermode had had his hand crushed by a heavy stone and meant to rest it for a day or two, but his persecutor drove him out to work. He obeyed with suspicious meekness and toiled in the scorching sun all day; but a few minutes before the signal to stop in the evening for which they were eagerly waiting, the gang was ordered to run a loaded dump car to the end of the line. The men were worn out, short in temper, and dripping with perspiration. Kermode's hand pained him and in trying to save it he had strained his shoulder; but he encouraged the others, and they slowly pushed the load along, moving it a yard or two, and stopping for breath.
The men on the bank were dawdling through the last few minutes, waiting to lay down their tools, and they offered the gang their sympathy as they pa.s.sed. Then there was a change in their att.i.tude as the foreman strode up the track.
”Shove!” he ordered. ”Get a move on! You have to dump that rock before you quit.”
They were ready to turn on him and Kermode's eyes flashed; but he spoke quietly to his men:
”Pus.h.!.+”
A few more yards were covered, the foreman walking beside the gang until they stopped for breath.
”Get on!” he cried. ”Send her along, you slobs!”
”We're pretty near the top of the grade,” Kermode answered him quietly.
”We want to go easy, so as to stop her at the dumping-place.”
The line, when finished, would cross the muskeg with a slight ascent; but the bank sank as they worked at it, and the track now led downhill toward its end. The foreman failed to remember this in his vicious mood.
”Are you going to call me down?” he roared. ”Mean to teach me my job? If this crowd's a sample of white men, give me Chinamen or n.i.g.g.e.rs! Get on before you make me sick, you slouching hogs!”
He became more insulting, using terms unbearable even in a construction camp, but Kermode did not answer him.
”Keep her going, boys,” he said.
They made another few yards, gasping, panting, with dripping faces; and then the work grew easier as they crossed the top of the ascent.
”Pus.h.!.+” said Kermode. ”Send her along!”
They looked at him in surprise. It was getting dark, but they could still see his face, which was quietly resolute; he evidently meant what he said, and they obeyed him. The big car began to move more freely, and they waited for an order to slacken the pace; but their leader seemed to be increasing his exertions and his eyes gleamed.
”He told us to push, boys!” he reminded them. ”Rush her ahead!”
Then comprehension dawned on them. The foreman had dropped behind, satisfied, perhaps, with bullying them, but every man taxed his tired muscles for a last effort. The wheels turned faster, the men broke into a run, and none of them was astonished when a warning cry rose behind them.
”Go on!” shouted Kermode. ”He'll hold me responsible! You know what to do!”
Men along the line called to them as they pa.s.sed, and they answered with a breathless yell. The car was gathering speed, and they kept it going.
There were further warnings, but they held on, until Kermode raised his voice harshly:
”A good shove, boys, and let her go!”
They stopped, exhausted, but the dump rolled on with its heavy load of rock, struck the guard-beams at the end of the track and smashed through them. Then with a crash and a roar the big steel car plunged down the slope, plowing up the gravel, hurling out ma.s.sive stones. A cloud of dust leaped about it; there was a shrill ringing sound as an axle broke, a last downward leap, and with a mighty splash the dump came to rest, half buried, in the muskeg.
Kermode turned with a cheerful smile as the foreman ran up; and the spectators knew that the time for words had pa.s.sed. n.o.body could remember who struck the first blow, but Kermode's left hand was injured, and he clinched as soon as he could. For a few minutes the men reeled about the track; and then with a tense effort Kermode pushed the foreman off the bank and went down with him. The gravel was small and slippery, lying at a steep slope, and they rolled down, still grappling with each other, until there was a splash below. A few moments later Kermode painfully climbed the bank alone.
”I guess you had better go down and pull your boss out,” he said. ”It's pretty soft in the muskeg; I believe he got his head in, and by the way he's floundering it looks as if he couldn't see.” He paused and waved his hand in genial farewell. ”Good-night, boys! I'm sorry I have to leave you; but considering everything, I think I'll take the trail.”
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