It's steep.

Seemed to wrench the cut." "Well," said Cassidy, "I've no kind of use for a man who doesn't know enough to keep himself from getting hurt.

You have got to get that foot better right away or get out." He shook a big, hard fist at the swamp.
"How'm I going to fill up that pit with a crowd of stiffs and deadbeats like those I'm driving now?
You make me tired!" He did not wait for an answer to the query, but plodded away; and Weston sat still a few minutes longer, with a wry smile in his eyes.
He resented being over-driven, though he was more or less used to it, and now and then he found his superior's vitriolic comments upon his efforts almost intolerably galling.

Still he had sense enough to realize that the remedy open to him was a somewhat hazardous one, because, while it would be easy to walk out of the construction camp, industrial activity just then was unusually slack in the Mountain Province.

Besides, he was willing to admit that there were excuses for Cassidy, and there was a certain quiet tenacity in him.