Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 4, 2025
A few hot suns would melt the snowbanks in the mountains to send the river thundering between its banks until the very earth trembled, and its navigation was unthinkable. The telegram came finally, and Bruce's relief was so great that, as little as he liked him, he could almost have embraced Smaltz, the man who brought the news that the machinery was boxed and on its way to Meadows.
"You oughtn't to say those rude, harsh things. They're apt to hurt the feelin's of a sensitive feller like me." "What you steal?" Toy pointed a trembling finger at the inside pocket of Smaltz's coat where it bulged. "You wrong me," said Smaltz sorrowfully in mock reproach. "That's my Bible, Chink." After Smaltz had gone Toy lighted a candle and poked among the boxes, cans, and sacks.
Smaltz shifted feet nervously. At last Bruce walked to the work-bench and took a carpenter's pencil from a box and sharpened it. He smoothed out some wrapping paper then motioned Smaltz to sit down. "I want you to write what you told me exactly word for word. Write it in duplicate and sign your name." Consternation overspread Smaltz's face.
Simultaneously, it seemed, both he and his helper thought of Smaltz. They took their eyes from the boat in trouble and the hind-sweepman's jaw dropped. He said unemotionally dully as he might have said "I'm sick; I'm hungry" "They've struck." Yes they had struck. If Bruce had not been so absorbed he might have heard the bottom splintering when she hit the rock.
Brutally, in utter savagery, Bruce ground Smaltz's face into the rough planks littered with nails and sharp-copper filings, whenever he could dragging him, shoving him, working him each second a little closer to the machinery with the frenzy of haste. He had not yet recovered from his run but Smaltz was no match for his great strength. A glimmer of Bruce's purpose came to Smaltz at last.
"I didn't mean anything," Banule mumbled, temporarily cowed. Bruce heard Smaltz snicker as he walked away. The sluice-boxes upon which Bruce was putting the finishing touches were his particular pride. They were four feet wide and nearly a quarter of a mile in length.
"And I've tried so hard." "You've sure worked like a horse." There was a look that was half pity, half grudging admiration on Smaltz's impudent face. Banule was to run the power-house for the day and complete some work inside, so when Bruce had finished with the mercury he told Smaltz to telephone Banule from the pump-house that they were ready to start.
But the tension as he took up riffle after rime with the one result was like watching a long-drawn-out race with all one's possessions staked on the losing horse. He took up riffles until it was a physical impossibility to work longer in the numbing water, his fingers could not hold the scoop. Then he went to the pump-house and told Banule to telephone Smaltz to shut down.
Smaltz was a liar, as he said, but Bruce knew that he had told the truth regarding Banule's work. He confirmed the suspicions and fears that had been in Bruce's mind for months. Therefore, when he said quietly to Banule "You'd better go up the hill!" there was that in his voice and eyes which made that person take his departure with only a little less celerity than Smaltz had taken his.
Therefore while Bruce took his place at the lever on the donkey-engine enclosed in a temporary shed to protect the motor from rain and dust, Smaltz went to the pump-house as he was bid. When Banule answered his ring he shouted: "Let her go in about two minutes two minutes d'ye hear?" The telephone receiver was shaking in Smaltz's hand and he was breathing hard.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking