se
than that. It could not be altered. Grin and bear it. After all, it
was only for life! Make the best of things, and get your own back
whenever you get a chance.

Presently Harlow began to sing. He had a good voice and it was a good
song, but his mates just then did not appreciate either one of the
other. His singing was the signal for an outburst of exclamations and
catcalls.

'Shut it, for Christ's sake!'

'That's enough of that bloody row!'

And so on. Harlow stopped.

'How's the enemy?' asked Easton presently, addressing no one in
particular.

'Don't know,' replied Bundy. 'It must be about half past four. Ask
Slyme; he's got a watch.'

It was a quarter past four.

'It gets dark very early now,' said Easton.

'Yes,' replied Bundy. 'It's been very dull all day. I think it's
goin' to rain. Listen to the wind.'

'I 'ope not,' replied Easton. 'That means a wet shirt goin' 'ome.'

He called out to old Jack Linden, who was still working at the front
doors:

'Is it raining, Jack?'

Old Jack, his pipe still in his mouth, turned to look at the weather.
It was raining, but Linden did not see the large drops which splashed
heavily upon the ground. He saw only Hunter, who was standing at the
gate, watching him. For a few seconds the two men looked at each other
in silence. Linden was paralysed with fear. Recovering himself, he
hastily removed his pipe, but it was too late.

Misery strode up.

'I don't pay you for smoking,' he said, loudly. 'Make out your time
sheet, take it to the office and get your money. I've had enough of
you!'

Jack made no attempt to defend himself: he knew it was of no use. He
silently put aside the things he had been using, went into the room
where he had left his tool-bag and coat, removed his apron and white
jacket, folded them up and put them into his tool-bag along with the
tools he had been using--a chisel-knife and a shavehook--put on his
coat, and, with the tool-bag slung over his shoulder, went away from
the house.

Without speaking to anyone else, Hunter then hastily walked over the
place, noting what progress had been made by each man during his
absence. He then rode away, as he wanted to get to the office in time
to give Linden his money.

It was now very cold and dark within the house, and as the gas was not
yet laid on, Crass distributed a number of candles to the men, who
worked silently, each occupied with his own gloomy thoughts. Who wou