He went out, laughing as a man laughs when he has a joke on the other fellow. “What did he mean by that?” asked Campbell, puzzled. “I don’t know,” said Toppy. But he knew now that Tilly had told Reivers of his talk with Miss Pearson the first evening in camp, and that Reivers had saved it up against him. CHAPTER XV—THE WAY OF THE SNOW-BURNER In the morning, before the time for beginning the day’s work, Toppy went to the stockade; and with one of his English-speaking Slavs acting an interpreter hunted up the Torta brothers and returned to them the stolen money which he had won from Reivers. He did not consider it necessary to go into the full details of how the money came to be in his possession, or attempt to explain the prejudice of his kind against keeping stolen goods. “Just tell them that Sheedy gave up the money, and that it’s theirs again; and they’d better hide it in their shoes so they won’t lose it,” he directed the interpreter. Whereat the latter, a garrulous young man who had been telling the camp all about the wonderful new “bahss” in the quarry—a “bahss” who saved men’s lives—whenever he could get any one to listen, broke forth into a wonderful tale of how the money came to be returned, and of the wonderful “bahss” that stood before them, whom they should all take off their caps to and worship. For this was no ordinary man, this “bahss.” No, he was far above all other men. It was an honour to work under him. For instance, as to this money: the “bahss” had heard how the red-haired one—Sheedy—had stolen, how he oppressed many poor men and broke the noses of those who dared to stand up against him. The “bahss” had the interests of poor men at heart. What had he done? He had struck the red-haired one such a mighty blow in the stomach that the red-haired one had flown high in the air, and alighting on the ground had been moved by the fear of death and disgorged the stolen money that his conscience might be easy. The story of how Toppy had propped up the roof of the stone quarry, and saved the limbs and possibly lives of his workmen; how he had driven the shotgun guard away, and how he had smitten Sheedy and laid him low before all men, had circulated through the camp by this time. Everybody knew that the new straw-boss, though fully as big and strong as the Snow-Burner himself, was a man who considered the men under him as something more than cattle and treated them accordingly. True, he drove men hard; but they went willingly for him, whereas under the Snow-Burner they hurried merely because of the chill fear that his eyes drove into their hearts. In short, Toppy was just such a boss as all men wished to work under—strong but just, firm but not inhuman. Even Sheedy was loyal to him.