le man--Bannon
could not see until near by that he was not a boy--big-headed,
big-handed, big-footed. He stood there in his shirt-sleeves, his back to
Bannon, swearing good-humoredly at the men. When he turned toward him
Bannon saw that he had that morning played an unconscious joke upon his
bright red hair by putting on a crimson necktie.

Bannon asked for Peterson.

"He's up on the framing of the spouting house, over on the wharf there."

"What are you carrying that stuff around for?" asked Bannon.

"Moving it back to make room by the siding. We're expecting a big bill
of cribbing. You're Mr. Bannon, ain't you?" Bannon nodded. "Peterson had
a telegram from the office saying to expect you."

"You're still expecting that cribbing, eh?"

"Harder than ever. That's most all we've been doing for ten days.
There's Peterson, now; up there with the sledge."

Bannon looked in time to see the boss spring out on a timber that was
still balancing and swaying upon the hoisting rope. It was a good forty
feet above the dock. Clinging to the rope with one hand, with the other
Peterson drove his sledge against the side of the timber which swung
almost to its exact position in the framing.

"Slack away!" he called to the engineers, and he cast off the rope
sling. Then cautiously he stepped out to the end of the timber. It
tottered, but the lithe figure moved on to within striking distance. He
swung the twenty-four pound sledge in a circle against the butt of the
timber. Every muscle in his body from the ankles up had helped to deal
the blow, and the big stick bucked. The boss sprang erect, flinging his
arms wide and using the sledge to recover his balance. He struck hard
once more and again lightly. Then he hammered the timber down on the
iron dowel pins. "All right," he shouted to the engineer; "send up the
next one."

A few minutes later Bannon climbed out on the framing beside him.

"Hello, Charlie!" said the boss, "I've been looking for you. They wired
me you was coming."

"Well, I'm here," said Bannon, "though I 'most met my death climbing up
just now. Where do you keep your ladders?"

"What do I want of a ladder? I've no use for a man who can't get up on
the timbers. If a man needs a ladder, he'd better stay abed."

"That's where I get fired first thing," said Bannon.

"Why, you come up all right, with your overcoat on, too."

"I had to wear it or scratch up the timbers with my bones. I lost
thirty-two pounds up