There was an earth floor, and a bunk, filled with swamp-hay, was fixed to the wall; two or three camp-chairs stood about, and a fire of scented cedar logs burned on the clay hearth.

A Chinaman, dressed in very clean blue clothes, was putting a meal on the table.

Festing hung up his wet slickers and sat down with a vague sense of satisfaction.

It was plain that he must go without many comforts he had enjoyed at the farm, but he felt strangely at home.
Kerr took supper with him, and afterwards threw some papers on the table and lighted his pipe.

Half an hour later Festing looked up.
"I imagine I've got the hang of things, and I'll make a start to-morrow.
Your way of underpinning the track is pretty good, but I don't like that plan.