For a few moments he leaned on his shovel and gasped, but the pang moderated and he roused himself when the foreman looked his way.

He must try to hold out for another hour, and he savagely attacked his pile of stones.
When the echoes of the whistle filled the hollow he had some trouble in reaching the bunk-house, but felt better after dinner and a smoke, which he enjoyed sitting on a box by the stove; but the time for rest was short.

The foreman drove him out, and feeling very sore and stiff, he resumed work.
About four o'clock another pang shot through him and he dropped his shovel and sat down on a heap of ties, hoping to get a few minutes' rest before the gravel train came up.

The pain was troublesome, but not dangerous.

It might only bother him for a day or two, but it might last a week.