Cinder Path Tales

82 CINDER-PATH TALES spring of 188-, the year the track was re­ built. He was just over, and well I remem­ ber how he looked in his moleskin trousers and rough coat, with the queer hat on his head, and the odd little neckcloth tied tight around his neck. He stood close to six feet, was well put together; his hair was carroty, his face red and freckled, andhis eyes were small, and blue, and bright. He was en­ gaged as a day-laborer, wheeling dirt, shovel­ ling, raking, andI know not what else; but busy he was from seven o'clock in the morn­ ing until six at night. He did the workof two men, for he had not learned, like the others, the knack of loafing gracefully, and earned their ill-will because of his extraordi­ nary efforts. They badgered him unmerci­ fully. Pat stood it well enough fora few days, for he thought perhaps it was the habit of the new country, and meant in good nature. But one noon-hour whenhe opened his dinner- pail he found his lunch gone, and in its place a couple ofquarts of cinders from the track. He was a hungry man, after five hours' hard work; his mouth was watering for a juicy piece of corned beef and cabbage; and he had been thinking all the morning of a large wedgeof pie which decoratedthe top of the pail. He was hit in a tender spot,