If you'll let him camp with the boys, I'll be responsible for his board." "Any relation of yours ?" "No," replied Weston simply, "he's just my partner." The other man looked at him curiously, and then made what Weston fancied was an unusual concession.
"Well," he said, "we'll fix it.

You may go along and drill with the boys yonder in the open cut." Weston did as he was bidden, and spent the rest of the morning alternately holding the jarring drill and swinging a hammer.

It was strenuous work which demanded close attention, for the hammer was heavy, and it is far from easy to hit a drill neatly on the head, while the man who fails to do so runs the risk of smashing the fingers of the comrade who holds it.

It was not much more pleasant when he gripped the drill in turn, for, though the other man stood on a plank inserted in a crevice, Weston had to kneel on a slippery slope of rock and twist the drill each time the hammer descended.

The concussion jarred his stiffened hands and arms.