afterwards, if I was
happier or not." Carrie paused and there was a touch of color in her
face as she resumed: "Besides, she knew she could trust Jake and I
think she trusts you."
Jim said nothing. It looked as if the little faded woman who had been
occupied about the store all day had qualities he had not imagined,
although he now remembered he had sometimes got a hint of reserved
force. All was quiet for a minute or two while he mused, and then they
heard steps and Jake came up.
"I've been prospecting up the line. We have got our job," he said.
"What's the trouble? Bush pretty thick?"
"Rocks! They're lying loose right up the slope and it's going to cost
us high to roll them away. Then it's possible another lot will come
down."
Jim frowned. They had undertaken to clear a track of stated width,
along which pack-horses could travel, as well as fix the telegraph
posts; and a bank of big loose stones would, be a troublesome obstacle.
Much depended on the steepness of the hillside and he had not yet seen
the ground.
"If we have to build up and underpin the line, it will certainly cost
us something," he said. "However, we'll find that out as we go on.
The main thing is to start."
"I allow that's so. When you start you finish," Jake remarked. "Still
dollars will count in this fight and we may go broke."
"It's possible. Anyhow, we'll hold on until we are broke."
Carrie laughed. "And that's all there is to it, Jim? I like your way
of looking at things. It's simple and saves trouble."
"It puts it off," Jim rejoined dryly. "The trouble sometimes comes at
the end. But it's rather curious how often you can make good by just
holding on."
"Oh, well!" said Carrie. "I hear the boys coming. Go and see if they
have caught some fish."
Jim went off and presently returned with a string of big gray trout.
Sitting down, he began to sharpen his knife, but Carrie stopped him.
"Leave them alone! How many will the boys eat for breakfast?"
"To some extent, it depends on how many they get. If they're up to
their usual form, I reckon they'll eat the lot. But what has that to
do with it? I'll fix the trout."
"No," said Carrie. "Give me your knife."
"Certainly not. Do you like dressing fish?"
"I expect I'll hate it, but I'm going to try. Do you want me to
struggle with a small blunt knife?"
Jim looked hard at her. Her mouth was firm and he knew what her touch
of color meant.
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