He wore the mud-caked lace boots and stained khaki, as did Carrigan, in which he had departed from camp.
"Well, we haven't quit breathing yet," Pat remarked, licking the wrapper on the cigar he was about to light.
Lee sat silent for several minutes.
"Anyway, I'll see you don't lose, Pat," he said.

"You can figure out what profit you would have made on your contract if the ditch had been built and I'll pay you that.

Then you can call off your crew." "Oh, I'll let you down easy, Lee.

That wasn't worrying me any," was the rejoinder.

"I was just thinking----" But his words broke off there, and he again gave his attention to the cigar wrapper that persisted in coming loose.
Bryant continued his gloomy cogitation.