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Updated: June 8, 2025
As he stood awaiting a reply his broad, flat features, his long arms and bow legs with their huge hands and feet, his fringe of brick-red hair cropping out behind his cap, each contributing to the general appearance of utter homeliness a faint smile came over Bannon's face. The half-formed thought was in his mind, "If she looks anything like that, I guess she's safe."
I'll dictate a letter to go with it by and by." For all Bannon's foresight, there threatened to be a hitch in the work on the gallery. The day shift was on again, and twenty-four of Bannon's forty-eight hours were spent, when he happened to say to a man: "Never mind that now, but be sure you fix it to-morrow." "To-morrow?" the man repeated. "We ain't going to work to-morrow, are we?"
It was all one movement, Bannon's jamming that hat the silk hat down on his head, and diving through the door. He shouted orders as he ran, and a number of men, Pete among them, got to the wharf as soon as he did. "Now, boys, this is all the false work we can have. We're going to hang it up across the tracks and hang our gallery up on it till it's strong enough to hold itself.
They're hustlers, too, Mr. Peterson. Well, good-night to you." Peterson saw Bannon twice every day, for a half hour at night when he took charge of the job, and for another half hour in the morning when he relinquished it. That was all except when they chanced to meet during Bannon's irregular nightly wanderings about the elevator.
"No joke, my dear chap: I've been promoted over the heads of your friends, De Morbihan and Popinot, and shall henceforth be as they say in America the whole works." "By what warrant?" "The illustrious Bannon's. I've been appointed his lieutenant vice Greggs, deposed for bungling." "Do you mean to tell me Bannon controls De Morbihan and Popinot?" The Englishman smiled indulgently.
"We're going to stand out." Since Bannon's talk with President Carver a little drama had been going on in the local lodge, a drama that neither Bannon, Max, nor Peterson knew about. James had been selected by Carver for this work because of proved ability and shrewdness.
A dozen of them were lounging about the brick-paved space in front of the battery of boilers when Bannon opened the door, and they sprang to their feet as they read his errand in his face. "Steam up," he said. "We'll be ready as soon as you are." There was the accumulated tension of a week of inactivity behind these men, and the effect of Bannon's words was galvanic.
"What's the matter with it! There ain't more'n a rod of it left, that's what." Bannon's scowl relaxed. "Oh," he said, "I see. You're the section boss, ain't you?" "Yes." "That's all right then. Come over here and I'll show you how we've got things fixed."
"Better bring all your men up here, Pete, and clean it all away by the steamer. She may as well begin unloading now." Bannon walked back to the tracks, in time to see a handcar and trailer, packed with men, come up the track and stop near at hand. The men at once scattered, and brushing aside Bannon's laborers, they began replacing the sections of fence.
"It's something like that. Couldn't say exactly. Max takes care of the lumber." Bannon's brows came together. "You ought to know a little more about this yourself, Pete. You're the man that's building the house." "I guess I've been pushing it along as well as any one could," said Peterson, sullenly. "That's all right. I ain't hitting at you. I'm talking business, that's all.
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