I must have made him feel pretty sore."

"Pete," he said, coming upon him in the marine tower a little later, "I've
got over my stomach-ache. Is it all right?"

"Sure," said Pete; "I didn't know you was feeling bad. I was thinking
about that belt gallery, Charlie. Ain't it time we was putting it up? I'm
getting sort of nervous about it."

"There ain't three days' work in it, the way we're going," said Bannon,
thoughtfully, his eyes on the C. & S. C. right-of-way that lay between him
and the main house, "but I guess you're right. We'll get at it now.
There's no telling what sort of a surprise party those railroad fellows
may have for us. The plans call for three trestles between the tracks.
We'll get those up today."

To Pete, building the gallery was a more serious business. He had not
Bannon's years of experience at bridge repairing; it had happened that he
had never been called upon to put up a belt gallery before, and this idea
of building a wooden box one hundred and fifty feet long and holding it
up, thirty feet in air, on three trestles, was formidable. Bannon's
nonchalant air of setting about it seemed almost an affectation.

Each trestle was to consist of a rank of four posts, planted in a line at
right angles to the direction of the gallery; they were to be held
together at the top by a corbel. No one gave rush orders any more on
Calumet K, for the reason that no one ever thought of doing anything else.
If Bannon sent for a man, he came on the run. So in an incredibly short
time the fences were down and a swarm of men with spades, post augers,
picks, and shovels had invaded the C. & S. C. right-of-way. Up and down
the track a hundred yards each way from the line of the gallery Bannon had
stationed men to give warning of the approach of trains. "Now," said
Bannon, "we'll get this part of the job done before any one has time to
kick. And they won't be very likely to try to pull 'em up by the roots
once we get 'em planted."

But the section boss had received instructions that caused him to be
wide-awake, day or night, to what was going on in the neighborhood of
Calumet K. Half an hour after the work was begun, the picket line up the
track signalled that something was coming. There was no sound of bell or
whistle, but presently Bannon saw a hand car spinning down the track as
fast as six big, sweating men could pump the levers. The section boss had
little to say; simply that they were to get out of there and p