WritingANovel
"You don't eat until you cut." "I don't cut until I eat." Their hands were still gripped. Les stared at Doug and Doug stared at Les.
| "You can start right now, Mister..." "You can call me Les. And I'll start tomorrow. You can point me at my bunk and the chow." |
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| "You won't be paid any different than anyone else. Twenty a week, your kip and feed." "That'll do for now." A handshake was exchanged. |
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| "We don't need any god damned charity." "I ain't offering charity. But I am offering to save your job." |
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| "You know who I am and what I do. And we both know you're five days behind." Doug's mouth said nothing, but his rising color said it all. |
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| He went straight to the job shack and asked for a hitch. "We're all full up on sawyers," was Doug's reply. "Bullshit," was Big Lester's. |
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| He walked into camp, hauling his ax and rucksack over one shoulder. As a sawyer, he needed no ax. But as a lumberjack, it was tradition. |
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| They called him Big Lester and he came with a pedigree: The best god damned bucksaw man this side of the Mississippi. |
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