"A miner has no use for getting himself up like a bank clerk anyway." Weston held up the lamp so the rest could see him.

His face was black, and the sleeve of his duck jacket had several big holes in it.

His trousers were rent in places, and one of his long boots was burst, while Devine's hat, which was too big for him, hung shapeless and dotted with charred holes on his head.
"I'm going back to Montreal in a day or two.

Can I call on big stock-jobbers and company floaters like this ?" "Guess you can buy new ones in Montreal," said the miner.
"You can," agreed Weston, "when you have the money.

The trouble is, I haven't.