"Well, young man, ready to go to work?"
"This morning, father."
Paul took up the extra slack in his belt. "Oh, we won't rush you. You'd
better take the first week off and visit the Barbours. They're getting
pretty old, Pelham; they'll appreciate it."
"All right, sir."
Paul stopped to examine a badly-hung gate, sagging weakly away from its
post. "I'll fire that lazy Peter, if he doesn't 'tend to these hinges
better. A cow could push through and eat up five hundred dollars' worth
of shrubs before your mother caught on.... We'll have you meet some of
the men."
They came up behind a stubby, middle-aged Irishman, loudly ordering a
group of white workers who were timbering the newest mine entrances.
"D'ye want the whole mountain to fall on you? Jam it under that slide
rock, man."