“Well, Badeau,” he said. “What can I do for you?”
“I want a job.”
“What can you do?”
“Anything.”
“What’s the matter? Up against it?”
“You know my schooner’s gone.”
“Yes, I know.” And Mr. Jackson also knew that Hunch2 was a good man. “Tell you what I’ll do, Badeau; I’ll make a place for you. How are you on logs?”
“I was boss of Dempsey’s gang up to Cadillac four years ago.”
“How much money do you want?”
“‘Nough to keep me going. You’ll find out what I’m worth fast enough.” Badeau went to work the next morning. He took a cheap room near the lumber-yard, and found before the week was out that he could live on two-thirds of his salary. At the beginning of the second week, Mr. Jackson put him in charge of the river gang, driving logs. Hunch took advantage of the mild weather to get all the logs in the river to the mill before the river should freeze up solid for the winter. He got along well with the men, excepting a fellow named McGuire, who was inclined to grumble3 at hard work. But one noon at the mill, when the men were matching their strength, Hunch lifted a six-hundred pound pile-driver weight and swung it easily clear of the ground. That quieted McGuire.
One day toward the close of his second week, Badeau found Bruce Considine hanging around, at closing time, outside the mill.
“Hello, Bruce,” he said. “What you doing up here?”
“Come up to see you, Hunch.”
“What’s the matter?”
“The old man come down on me last week.”
“Fire you?”
“Yes. I’m sick of working for him anyhow. He’ll never let a fellow alone.”
“What you going to do? You ain’t likely to get another job like that.”
“I don’t know. I thought mebbe you’d know of something up here, Hunch.”
“I just went on the job, myself.”
“I know it, but I can’t starve, Hunch, I ain’t had any money for a couple of days.”
“How about—your——”
“Marne? She’s down at the house. I told her to go to the old man, but he’s kind of ugly and she wont4 do it. Guess she’ll get over being proud one of these days.”
“What’s she living on?”
“I thought mebbe I could send her something, if I could get a job up here.”
“I dunno, Bruce. I’ll ask the boss. Come around to-morrow noon.”
The following afternoon Bruce joined Hunch’s gang as a day-laborer. His muscles were soft, and it was several days before he could do a man’s work. One day the gang were carrying heavy timbers at the mill, and Hunch noticed that Bruce’s partner on one of the double timber-hooks was muttering. He kept an eye on the pair, and saw that Bruce’s hands sagged5 at every few steps. When the day’s work was done he waited outside the mill for Bruce.
“Look here, Bruce,” he said, “I’m on to you.”
“What you talking about?”
“You know what I’m talking about. I seen you soldiering. I just want to tell you that it won’t go.”
Bruce was silent for a moment. Then he said:
“Think you’ve got me down, don’t you.”
“What I think ain’t got nothing to do with it. I got you the job, but I can’t keep you if you don’t take a brace6. The boss wouldn’t stand for it. You got to earn your pay.”
“It’s easy for you to talk. You’re getting good money. I’m working hard enough for every cent I get.”
“None o’ your talk now, Bruce. You can’t bluff7 me. You just quit loafing and get down to business. You’re going to do it, too, if I have to knock it into you. Understand?”
Bruce walked away in a surly mood, but for a few days Hunch saw a slight improvement in his work. Then there came a slump8. Hunch said nothing until one noon he overheard Bruce and McGuire grumbling9 together. He called Bruce away.
“Look here, Bruce,” he said, “you know what I told you.”
“What you got to kick about?”
“None o’ your lip. You just keep away from McGuire.”
“I don’t see what you got to say about a friend of mine.”
“Friend of yours, eh? I s’pose you’re bunking10 with him, too?”
“Well, whose business is it if——”
“You leave him tonight. Understand?”
Bruce sulked for the rest of the day and avoided Hunch. After supper Hunch went to McGuire’s room in the square frame hotel by the tracks. No one was there, but Bruce’s patent-leather valise lay in the corner. Hunch waited until they came in.
“Hello,” said Bruce, a little startled.
“Pack up your stuff and come along with me, Bruce.”
“Bruce is rooming with me,” said McGuire, looking at Hunch out of the corners of his eyes.
“No, he ain’t,” said Hunch, “he’s rooming with me. Step lively, Bruce. I been waiting half an hour.”
Bruce and McGuire looked at each other, and Hunch sat grimly on the bed. Then Bruce turned to the bureau and began nervously11 gathering12 his things and throwing them into the valise. McGuire helped him without a word. Then Bruce shook hands with McGuire, a little stiffly, and went away with Hunch.
Now, that he was directly under Hunch’s eye, Bruce improved slightly. He fell into the habit of confiding13 in Hunch, and relying, as in the old days, upon his advice. But one day a letter came for Bruce, addressed in a hand which Hunch recognized. Bruce was quiet and serious for hours, and when Hunch asked him what was the matter, he tried to pass it over with a laugh. It was not until after supper, when they were up in the room together, that Bruce gave way. Hunch was shaving, and Bruce sat watching him for some time, before he said: “Hunch, I—got a letter from Marne.” Hunch could see him in the mirror leaning forward in his chair with his elbows on his knees.
“She—she’s coming down kind of hard on me. I ain’t had a chance to earn anything yet. It’s all I can do to take care of myself.”
“Ain’t you sent her anything?”
“Why, how could I? You know what I’m getting, Hunch.”
“What’s the matter?”
“She says they’re sticking her for the house rent. I don’t know what to do. I wish she’d go back to her old man.”
“How much are you stuck for?”
“I don’t know. You read it. Mebbe you can tell me what to do. Seems if she ought to help a little, somehow.” Hunch leaned against the wall, under the bracket lamp, and read the letter. Then he laid it on the bureau and stood stropping his razor on the palm of his hand. Finally he turned to the mirror and went on shaving.
“What do you think, Hunch?” asked Bruce, after a long silence.
“I dunno.”
“Tell me something, Hunch. I got to do something.”
“Shut up a while. Lemme think.”
When he had finished shaving, Hunch said:
“To-day’s Thursday, ain’t it?”
“Guess so.”
“Look here, Bruce, you write her a letter. Tell her I’m coming down Sunday.”
“You, Hunch——?”
“Yes, I’m going down. Tell her, we’ll see if we can’t fix it up somehow.”
Bruce looked up at him.
“Seems to me you’re kind of anxious to see my wife.”
Hunch turned on him.
“Look here, Bruce. Do you want to know why I’m going?”
Bruce nodded slowly.
“It’s ‘cause if I gave you any money to go down there you’d blow it in and make a fool of yourself. You ain’t fit to have a wife, that’s why. You owe me money now that I give you for your wife and you soaked it in on jags. Don’t you talk to me. Understand?” Bruce stood by the window, looking out into the dark. Hunch was bending over the washbowl and splashing water on the floor. He groped for the towel. Bruce said: “What you got mad about all of a sudden?”
Hunch’s face was buried in the towel. Bruce watched him.
“What you going to say to her, Hunch?”
“I dunno.”
“Say, you ain’t going to say nothing about me, are you?”
Hunch glanced at him contemptuously, and began to hone his razor. Bruce stood around for a while, then moved slowly toward the door.
“Where’re you going?”
“I dunno. Thought I might go up town. Guess there ain’t much of anything going on.”
“You come back.”
Bruce laughed nervously.
“Ain’t mad, are you, Hunch?”
“No, I ain’t mad. Better write that letter, I guess.”
“That’s so. I was going to do that, wasn’t I. I kind of forgot it.” He sat at the table and took up the pen clumsily. “I don’t know just what to say, Hunch.”
“That’s your business.”
“Don’t be mean, Hunch.”
“You shut up and write that letter. I don’t care what you say.”
When he had written it, and before sealing the envelope, Bruce hesitated and looked around at Hunch. But Hunch had turned his back and was honing without a word, so Bruce sealed it.
“It’s wrote, Hunch. I told her——”
“Give it to me. I’ll mail it in a minute. You be here now when I get back.”
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收听单词发音
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1
schooner
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| n.纵帆船 | |
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hunch
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| n.预感，直觉 | |
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3
grumble
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| vi.抱怨；咕哝；n.抱怨，牢骚；咕哝，隆隆声 | |
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wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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sagged
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| 下垂的 | |
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6
brace
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| n. 支柱,曲柄,大括号; v. 绷紧,顶住,(为困难或坏事)做准备 | |
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7
bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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slump
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| n.暴跌，意气消沉，（土地）下沉；vi.猛然掉落，坍塌，大幅度下跌 | |
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grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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10
bunking
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| v.（车、船等倚壁而设的）铺位( bunk的现在分词 )；空话，废话 | |
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11
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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12
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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13
confiding
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| adj.相信人的，易于相信的v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的现在分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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