Page:Hugh Pendexter--The young timber-cruisers.djvu/39



remarks as they drew near the office were half inaudible because of the increased clamor pouring out of the mill. A hasty glance sufficed for Bub to know the manager was in one of the mills, or at the sorting gaps.

“We’ll try in here,” he shouted in Stanley’s ear. “Sawing pine into lumber. I tell you, my son, we are the only people and you must git in with us.”

Stanley smiled gloomily; at another time he knew Bub would be a continuous source of delight to him, but now the future was veiled in doubts and misgivings. It was too late to retreat, however, for with his last optimistic observation Bub had led the way into the place of noise. The songs of the saws were keyed from droning monotones to the shrill screech that seemed to split the ear. Added to this vibrating babel was the clang and roar of pulleys and belts and the racket of the boards sliding from the tables. For the fraction of a moment Stanley forgot their errand and with 18