THE MAN FROM GLENGARRY
"Slick little engine," said the colonel, with discriminating admiration.
"It's no that bad the noo, but ye sud hae seen it afore Jem, there, took a hand o' it—a wheezin' rattlin' pechin thing that ye micht expect tae flee in bits for the noise in the wame o't. But Jemmie sorted it till it's nae despicable for its size. But it's no fit for the wark. Jemmie, lad, just gie't its fill an' we'll pit the saw until a log," said Urquhart, as they went up into the sawing-room where, in a few minutes, the colonel had an exhibition of the saw sticking fast in a log for lack of power.
"Man, yon's a lad that kens his trade. He's frae Gleska. He earns his money's warth."
"How did you come to get him?" said the colonel, moved to interest by Urquhart's unwonted praise.
"Indeed, just the way we've got all our best men. It's the boss picked him oot o' the gutter, and there he is earnin' his twa and a half a day."
"The boss did that, eh?" said the colonel, with one of his swift glances at the speaker.
"Aye, that he did, and he's only one o' many."
"He's good at that sort of business, I guess."
"Aye, he kens men as ye can see frae his gang."
"Doesn't seem to be able to make the company's business pay," ventured the colonel.
"D'ye think ye cud find one that cud?" pointing to the halting saw. "An that's the machine that turned oot thae piles yonder. Gie him a chance, though, an' when the stuff is deesposed of ye'll get y're profit." Urquhart knew what he was about, and
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