Chapter II
The long wooden eating-whare smelt of onions and meat, and rang with the talk of Scannell’s men at breakfast. Red, frosty sunlight struck the clattering tinware to mix there with the red of the fire; and the slow peace of Sunday lay over the men. Lou blocked the door for an instant, causing Beckett and Scott to shout wrath from their card-game among the dirty plates. Then he swung his legs over a form, and pushed out a place between Mogger and Buck.
“Send along the tea-pot,” he said; “and that pannikin. Where’s the milk?”
Beyond Steve, Danny’s freckled face bobbed out of line.
“Mornin,” he said politely. “Ter-morrer mornin’. Did yer know it? We put in a detail of a day’s work while yer was etherealisin’ up in the hills.”
“Never gettin’ yer Sat’day night’s spring-cleanin’, neither,” shouted Beckett, whilst Scott promptly revoked.
Tod spread himself on the battle of dispute delightedly, and Buck said:
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