The two men
figured on jobs to be built, rows of workingmen's houses, sheds alongside
one of the new factories, large frame houses for the superintendents and
other substantial men of the town's new enterprises. In the old days Ben
had been glad to go occasionally into the country on a barn-building job.
He had liked the country food, the gossip with the farmer and his men at
the noon hour and the drive back and forth to town, mornings and evenings.
While he was in the country he managed to make a deal for his winter
potatoes, hay for his horse, and perhaps a barrel of cider to drink on
winter evenings. Now he had no time to think of such things. When a farmer
came to see him he shook his head. "Get some one else to figure on your
job," he advised. "You'll save money by getting a barn-building carpenter.
I can't bother. I have too many houses to build." Ben and Gordon sometimes
worked in the lumber office until midnight. On warm still nights the sweet
smell of new-cut boards filled the air of the yard and crept in through the
open windows, but the two men, intent on their figures, did not notice. In
the early evening one or two teams came back to the yard to finish hauling
lumber to a job where the men were to work on the next day. The voices
of the men, talking and singing as they loaded their wagons, broke the
silence. Later the wagons loaded high with boards went creaking away.
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