Left to themselves probably the men would never have dreamed of objecting to whatever privations the task carried with it. Radway's anxiety for their comfort, however, caused them finally to imagine that perhaps they might have some just grounds for complaint after all. That is a great trait of the lumber-jack. But Dyer, the scaler, finally caused the outbreak. Dyer was an efficient enough man in his way, but he loved his own ease. His habit was to stay in his bunk of mornings until well after daylight. To this there could be no objection--except on the part of the cook, who was supposed to attend to his business himself--for the scaler was active in his work, when once he began it, and could keep up with the skidding. But now he displayed a strong antipathy to the north wind on the plains. Of course he could not very well shirk the work entirely, but he did a good deal of talking on the very cold mornings. “I don't pose for no tough son-of-a-gun,” said he to Radway, “and I've got some respect for my ears and feet. She'll warm up a little by to-morrow, and perhaps the wind'll die. I can catch up on you fellows by hustling a little, so I guess I'll stay in and work on the books to-day.” “All right,” Radway assented, a little doubtfully. This happened perhaps two days out of the week. Finally Dyer hung out a thermometer, which he used to consult. The men saw it, and consulted it too. At once they felt much colder. “She was stan' ten below,” sputtered Baptiste Tellier, the Frenchman who played the fiddle. “He freeze t'rou to hees eenside. Dat is too cole for mak de work.” “Them plains is sure a holy fright,” assented Purdy. “Th' old man knows it himself,” agreed big Nolan; “did you see him rammin' around yesterday askin' us if we found her too cold? He knows damn well he ought not to keep a man out that sort o' weather.” “You'd shiver like a dog in a briar path on a warm day in July,” said Jackson Hines contemptuously. “Shut up!” said they. “You're barn-boss. You don't have to be out in th' cold.” This was true. So Jackson's intervention went for a little worse than nothing. “It ain't lak' he has nuttin' besides,” went on Baptiste. “He can mak' de cut in de meedle of de fores'.” “That's right,” agreed Bob Stratton, “they's the west half of eight ain't been cut yet.” So they sent a delegation to Radway. Big Nolan was the spokesman. “Boss,” said he bluntly, “she's too cold to work on them plains to-day. She's the coldest day we had.” Radway was too old a hand at the business to make any promises on the spot. “I'll see, boys,” said he.