"
"But aren't they liable to fall off and get killed?"
"No. You see, they're used to fighting that way. Moreover, the
engineer looks back, and if he sees any signs of Donnybrook Fair, he
slows down."
"How horrible!"
"Yes, indeed. The right of way is lined with empty whiskey bottles."
Colonel Pennington spoke up. "We don't have any fighting on the mad-
train any more," he said blandly.
"Indeed! How do you prevent it?" Bryce asked.
"My woods-boss, Jules Rondeau, makes them keep the peace," Pennington
replied with a small smile. "If there's any fighting to be done, he
does it."
"You mean among his own crew, of course," Bryce suggested.
"No, he's in charge of the mad-train, and whether a fight starts
among your men or ours, he takes a hand. He's had them all behaving
mildly for quite a while, because he can whip any man in the country,
and everybody realizes it. I don't know what I'd do without Rondeau.
He certainly makes those bohunks of mine step lively."
"Oh-h-h! Do you employ bohunks, Colonel?"
"Certainly. They cost less; they are far less independent than most
men and more readily handled. And you don't have to pamper them--
particularly in the matter of food. Why, Mr Cardigan, with all due
respect to your father, the way he feeds his men is simply
ridiculous! Cake and pie and doughnuts at the same meal!" The Colonel
snorted virtuously.
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