"You'd hurt yerself
rockin' a baby's cradle, you would. 'Bout time you quit men's work,
ain't it?"
"Not yet," said Dennis.
During these weeks upon the river Dennis had not seen anything of
Mamie. Tom Barker, as supreme boss, visited all crews, and then
returned to his wife, with either a leer or a frown upon his face. She
had come to loathe the leer more than the frown. In the different
camps the boys told the same story--
"He knocks the stuffin' out of her!"
The stay-at-home Briton, warm with roast beef and indigestion, will
wonder that one man amongst a hundred should be suffered to ill-treat
a thin, dough-faced little woman. Why did they not arise and slaughter
him? Had Tom stolen a colt in the cattle-country he would have been
lynched. Let publicists resolve the problem!
Finally, one Sunday morning, Dennis and Mamie met again.
"Holy Mackinaw!" exclaimed Dennis.
"Anything wrong?"
"Everything."
"I don't understand." But, of course, she did.
"It's God's truth, then, what the boys say?"
She hung her head.
"I thought he'd quit when I went up the river," said Dennis.
Pages:
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418