watching Jewel. He moves toward the bank, passing Dewey Dell and me.
“You get on out of here,” I say. She says nothing, looking at Jewel and Vernon.
“Where’s the hammer?” Jewel says. Vardaman scuttles up the bank and fetches it.
“It’s heavier than the saw,” Vernon says. Jewel is tying the end of the chalk-line about the hammer shaft.
“Hammer’s got the most wood in it,” Jewel says. He and Vernon face one another, watching Jewel’s hands.
“And flatter, too,” Vernon says. “It’d float three to one, almost. Try the plane.”
Jewel looks at Vernon. Vernon is tall, too; long and lean, eye to eye they stand in their close wet clothes. Lon Quick could look even at a cloudy sky and tell the time to ten minutes. Big Lon I mean, not little Lon.
“Why don’t you get out of the water?” I say.
“It won’t float like a saw,” Jewel says.
“It’ll float nigher to a saw than a hammer will,” Vernon says.
“Bet you,” Jewel says.
“I won’t bet,” Vernon says.
They stand there, watching Jewel’s still hands.
“Hell,” Jewel says. “Get the plane, then.”