They had made holes in the wood for the nails as well as they could, but they had to be hammered in.

It was very disagreeable--the sound and the jar.

With each stroke of Saul's hammer it seemed to the two workmen that the dead man jumped.
"There, man," cried Bates angrily; "that'll do." Only four nails had been put in their places--one in each side.

With irritation that amounted to anger against Saul, Bates took the hammer from him and shoved it on to a high shelf.
"Ye can get screws at the village, ye know," he said, still indignantly, as if some fault had appertained to Saul.
Then, endeavouring to calm an ill-temper which he felt to be wholly unreasonable, he crossed his arms and sat down on a chair by the wall.
His sitting in that room at all perhaps betokened something of the same sensation which in Saul produced those glances before and behind, indicating that he did not like to turn his back upon any object of awe.
In Bates this motive, if it existed, was probably unconscious or short-lived; but while he still sat there Saul spoke, with a short, silly laugh which was by way of preface.
"Don't you think, now, Mr.Bates, it 'ud be better to have a prayer, or a hymn, or something of that sort?
We'd go to bed easier." To look at the man it would not have been easy to attribute any just notion of the claims of religion to him.

He looked as if all his motions, except those of physical strength, were vapid and paltry.
Still, this was what he said, and Bates replied stiffly: "I've no objections." Then, as if assuming proper position for the ceremony that was to ease his mind, the big lumberman sat down.