CALUMET "K"

by

MERWIN-WEBSTER

1904

CHAPTER I

The contract for the two million bushel grain elevator, Calumet K, had been let to MacBride & Company, of Minneapolis, in January, butthe superstructure was not begun until late in May, and at the end ofOctober it was still far from completion. Ill luck had attendedPeterson, the constructor, especially since August. MacBride, thehead of the firm, disliked unlucky men, and at the end of threemonths his patience gave out, and he telegraphed Charlie Bannon toleave the job he was completing at Duluth and report at once at thehome office. 

Rumors of the way things were going at Calumet under the hands of hisyounger co-laborer had reached Bannon, and he was not greatlysurprised when MacBride told him to go to Chicago Sunday night andsupersede Peterson. 

At ten o'clock Monday morning, Bannon, looking out through the dustywindow of the trolley car, caught sight of the elevator, the nakedcribbing of its huge bins looming high above the huddled shanties andlumber piles about it. A few minutes later he was walking along arickety plank sidewalk which seemed to lead in a general directiontoward the elevator. The sidewalks at Calumet are at the theoreticalgrade of the district, that is, about five feet above the actuallevel of the ground. In winter and spring they are necessarycauseways above seas of mud, but in dry weather every one abandonsthem, to walk straight to his destination over the uninterruptedflats. Bannon set down his hand bag to button his ulster, for thewind was driving clouds of smoke and stinging dust and an occasionalgrimy snowflake out of the northwest. Then he sprang down from thesidewalk and made his way through the intervening bogs and, heedlessof the shouts of the brakemen, over a freight train which wascreaking its endless length across his path, to the elevator site. 

The elevator lay back from the river about sixty yards and parallelto it. Between was the main line of the C. & S. C, four clear tracksunbroken by switch or siding. On the wharf, along with a big pile oftimber, was the beginning of a small spouting house, to be connectedwith the main elevator by a belt gallery above the C. & S. C. Tracks. A hundred yards to the westward, up the river, the Belt Line trackscrossed the river and the C. & S. C. Right of way at an obliqueangle, and sent two side tracks lengthwise through the middle of theelevator and a third along the south side, that is, the side awayfrom the river. 

Bannon glanced over the lay of the land, looked more particularly atthe long ranges of timber to be used for framing the cupola, and thenasked a passing workman the way to the office. He frowned at thewretched shanty, evidently an abandoned Belt Line section house, which Peterson used for headquarters. Then, setting down his bag justoutside the door, he went in. 

"Where's the boss?" he asked. 

The occupant of the office, a clerk, looked up impatiently, and spokein a tone reserved to discourage seekers for work. 

"He ain't here. Out on the job somewhere. "

"Palatial office you've got, " Bannon commented. "It would help thosewindows to have 'em ploughed. " He brought his bag into the office andkicked it under a desk, then began turning over a stack of blue printsthat lay, weighted down with a coupling pin, on the table. 

"I guess I can find Peterson for you if you want to see him, " saidthe clerk. 

"Don't worry about my finding him, " came from Bannon, deep in hisstudy of the plans. A moment later he went out. 

A gang of laborers was engaged in moving the timbers back from therailroad siding. Superintending the work was a squat little man--Bannon could not see until near by that he was not a boy--big-headed, big-handed, big-footed. He stood there in his shirt-sleeves, his backto Bannon, swearing good-humoredly at the men. When he turned towardhim Bannon saw that he had that morning played an unconscious jokeupon his bright red hair by putting on a crimson necktie. 

Bannon asked for Peterson. "He's up on the framing of the spoutinghouse, over on the wharf there. "

"What are you carrying that stuff around for?" asked Bannon. 

"Moving it back to make room by the siding. We're expecting a bigbill of cribbing. You're Mr. Bannon, ain't you?" Bannon nodded. "Peterson had a telegram from the office saying to expect you. "

"You're still expecting that cribbing, eh?"

"Harder than ever. That's most all we've been doing for ten days. There's Peterson, now; up there with the sledge. "

Bannon looked in time to see the boss spring out on a timber that wasstill balancing and swaying upon the hoisting rope. It was a goodforty feet above the dock. Clinging to the rope with one hand, withthe other Peterson drove his sledge against the side of the timberwhich swung almost to its exact position in the framing. 

"Slack away!" he called to the engineers, and he cast off the ropesling. Then cautiously he stepped out to the end of the timber. Ittottered, but the lithe figure moved on to within striking distance. He swung the twenty-four pound sledge in a circle against the butt ofthe timber. Every muscle in his body from the ankles up had helped todeal the blow, and the big stick bucked. The boss sprang erect, flinging his arms wide and using the sledge to recover his balance. Hestruck hard once more and again lightly. Then he hammered the timberdown on the iron dowel pins. "All right, " he shouted to the engineer;"send up the next one. "

A few minutes later Bannon climbed out on the framing beside him. 

"Hello, Charlie!" said the boss, "I've been looking for you. Theywired me you was coming. "

"Well, I'm here, " said Bannon, "though I 'most met my death climbingup just now. Where do you keep your ladders?"

"What do I want of a ladder? I've no use for a man who can't get up onthe timbers. If a man needs a ladder, he'd better stay abed. "

"That's where I get fired first thing, " said Bannon. 

"Why, you come up all right, with your overcoat on, too. "

"I had to wear it or scratch up the timbers with my bones. I lostthirty-two pounds up at Duluth. "

Another big timber came swinging up to them at the end of thehoisting rope. Peterson sprang out upon it. "I'm going down before Iget brushed off, " said Bannon. 

"I'll be back at the office as soon as I get this corbel laid. "

"No hurry. I want to look over the drawings. Go easy there, " he calledto the engineer at the hoist; "I'm coming down on the elevator. "Peterson had already cast off the rope, but Bannon jumped for it andthrust his foot into the hook, and the engineer, not knowing who hewas, let him down none too gently. 

On his way to the office he spoke to two carpenters at work on a stickof timber. "You'd better leave that, I guess, and get some four-inchcribbing and some inch stuff and make some ladders; I guess there'senough lying 'round for that. About four'll do. "

It was no wonder that the Calumet K job had proved too much forPeterson. It was difficult from the beginning. There was not enoughground space to work in comfortably, and the proper bestowal of themillions of feet of lumber until time for it to be used in theconstruction was no mean problem. The elevator was to be a typical"Chicago" house, built to receive grain from cars and to deliver iteither to cars or to ships. As has been said, it stood back from theriver, and grain for ships was to be carried on belt conveyorsrunning in an inclosed bridge above the railroad tracks to the smallspouting house on the wharf. It had originally been designed to havea capacity for twelve hundred thousand bushels, but the grain men whowere building it, Page & Company, had decided after it was fairlystarted that it must be larger; so, in the midst of his work, Peterson had received instructions and drawings for a million bushelannex. He had done excellent work--work satisfactory even to MacBride& Company--on a smaller scale, and so he had been given theopportunity, the responsibility, the hundreds of employees, theliberal authority, to make what he could of it all. 

There could be no doubt that he had made a tangle; that the big jobas a whole was not under his hand, but was just running itself asbest it could. Bannon, who, since the days when he was chief of thewrecking gang on a division of the Grand Trunk, had made a business ofrising to emergencies, was obviously the man for the situation. He wasworn thin as an old knife-blade, he was just at the end of a piece ofwork that would have entitled any other man to a vacation; butMacBride made no apologies when he assigned him the new task--"Godown and stop this fiddling around and get the house built. See thatit's handling grain before you come away. If you can't do it, I'llcome down and do it myself. "

Bannon shook his head dubiously. "Well, I'm not sure--" he began. ButMacBride laughed, whereupon Bannon grinned in spite of himself. "Allright, " he said. 

It was no laughing matter, though, here on the job this Mondaymorning, and, once alone in the little section house, he shook hishead again gravely. He liked Peterson too well, for one thing, tosupersede him without a qualm. But there was nothing else for it, andhe took off his overcoat, laid aside the coupling pin, and attackedthe stack of blue prints. 

He worked rapidly, turning now and then from the plans for areference to the building book or the specifications, whistling softly, except when he stopped to growl, from force of habit, at the office, or, with more reasonable disapproval, at the man who made thedrawings for the annex. "Regular damn bird cage, " he called it. 

It was half an hour before Peterson came in. He was wiping thesweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, and drawinglong breaths with the mere enjoyment of living. "I feel good, " hesaid. "That's where I'd like to work all day. You ought to go upand sledge them timbers for a while. That'd warm you through, Ibet. "

"You ought to make your timekeeper give you one of those brasschecks there and pay you eighteen cents an hour for that work. That's what I'd do. "

Peterson laughed. It took more than a hint to reach him. "I haveto do it. Those laborers are no good. Honest, I can lift as muchas any three men on the job. "

"That's all right if those same three don't stop to swap lieswhile you're lifting. "

"Well, I guess they don't come any of that on me, " said Peterson, laughing again. "How long are you going to stay with us?"

The office, then, had not told him. Bannon was for a moment at aloss what to say. Luckily there was an interruption. The red-headedyoung man he had spoken to an hour before came in, tossed a tallyboard on the desk, and said that another carload of timber had comein. 

"Mr. Bannon, " said Peterson, "shake hands with Mr. Max Vogel, ourlumber checker. " That formality attended to, he turned to Bannonand repeated his question. By that time the other had his answerready. 

"Oh, it all depends on the office, " he said. "They're bound tokeep me busy at something. I'll just stay until they tell me to gosomewhere else. They ain't happy except when they've just put mein a hole and told me to climb out. Generally before I'm out theypick me up and chuck me down another one. Old MacBride wouldn'tthink the Company was prosperous if I wasn't working nights andSundays. "

"You won't be doing that down here. "

"I don't know about that. Why, when I first went to work for 'em, theyhired me by the day. My time cards for the first years figured up fourhundred and thirty-six days. " Peterson laughed. "Oh, that's straight, "said Bannon. "Next time you're at the office, ask Brown about it. Sincethen they've paid me a salary. They seem to think they'd have to go out ofbusiness if I ever took a vacation. I've been with 'em twelve years andthey've never given me one yet. They made a bluff at it once. I was downat Newport News, been doing a job for the C. &O. , and Fred Brown was downthat way on business. He--"

"What does Brown look like?" interrupted Peterson. "I never saw him. "

"You didn't! Oh, he's a good-looking young chap. Dresses kind of sporty. He's a great jollier. You have to know him a while to find out that hemeans business. Well, he came 'round and saw I was feeling pretty tired, so he asked me to knock off for a week and go fishing with him. I did, andit was the hardest work I ever tackled. "

"Did you get any fish?"

"Fish? Whales! You'd no sooner threw your line over than another one'dgrab it--great, big, heavy fish, and they never gave us a minute's rest. Iworked like a horse for about half a day and then I gave up. Told BrownI'd take a duplex car-puller along next time I tackled that kind of a job, and I went back to the elevator. "

"I'd like to see Brown. I get letters from him right along, of course. He's been jollying me about that cribbing for the last two weeks. I can'tmake it grow, and I've written him right along that we was expecting it, but that don't seem to satisfy him. "

"I suppose not, " said Bannon. "They're mostly out for results up at theoffice. Let's see the bill for it. " Vogel handed him a thin typewrittensheet and Bannon looked it over thoughtfully. "Big lot of stuff, ain't it?Have you tried to get any of it here in Chicago?"

"Course not. It's all ordered and cut out up to Ledyard. "

"Cut out? Then why don't they send it?"

"They can't get the cars. "

"That'll do to tell. 'Can't get the cars!' What sort of a railroad havethey got up there?"

"Max, here, can tell you about that, I guess, " said Peterson. 

"It's the G. &M. , " said the lumber checker. "That's enough for any onewho's lived in Michigan. It ain't much good. "

"How long have they kept 'em waiting for the cars?"

"How long is it, Max?" asked Peterson. 

"Let's see. It was two weeks ago come Tuesday. "

"Sure?"

"Yes. We got the letter the same day the red-headed man came here. Hishair was good and red. " Max laughed broadly at the recollection. "He cameinto the office just as we was reading it. "

"Oh, yes. My friend, the walking delegate. "

"What's that?" Bannon snapped the words out so sharply that Petersonlooked at him in slow surprise. 

"Oh, nothing, " he said. "A darn little rat of a red-headed walkingdelegate came out here--had a printed card with Business Agent on it--andpoked his long nose into other people's business for a while, and askedthe men questions, and at last he came to me. I told him that we treatedour men all right and didn't need no help from him, and if I ever caughthim out here again I'd carry him up to the top of the jim pole and leavehim there. He went fast enough. "

"I wish he'd knocked you down first, to even things up, " said Bannon. 

"Him! Oh, I could have handled him with three fingers. "

"I'm going out for a look around, " said Bannon, abruptly. 

He left Peterson still smiling good-humoredly over the incident. 

It was not so much to look over the job as to get where he could work outhis wrath that Bannon left the office. There was no use in trying toexplain to Peterson what he had done, for even if he could be made tounderstand, he could undo nothing. Bannon had known a good many walkingdelegates, and he had found them, so far, square. But it would be alarge-minded man who could overlook what Peterson had done. However, there was no help for it. All that remained was to wait till the businessagent should make the next move. 

So Bannon put the whole incident out of his mind, and until noon inspectedthe job in earnest. By the time the whistle blew, every one of thehundreds of men on the job, save Peterson himself, knew that there was anew boss. There was no formal assumption of authority; Bannon's supremacywas established simply by the obvious fact that he was the man who knewhow. Systematizing the confusion in one corner, showing another gang howto save handling a big stick twice, finally putting a runway across thedrillage of the annex, and doing a hundred little things between times, hemade himself master. 

The afternoon he spent in the little office, and by four o'clock had seeneverything there was in it, plans, specifications, building book, billfile, and even the pay roll, the cash account, and the correspondence. Theclerk, who was also timekeeper, exhibited the latter rather grudgingly. 

"What's all this stuff?" Bannon asked, holding up a stack of unfiledletters. 

"Letters we ain't answered yet. "

"Well, we'll answer them now, " and Bannon commenced dictating his reply tothe one on top of the stack. 

"Hold on, " said the clerk, "I ain't a stenographer. "

"So?" said Bannon. He scribbled a brief memorandum on each sheet. "There'senough to go by, " he said. "Answer 'em according to instructions. "

"I won't have time to do it till tomorrow some time. "

"I'd do it tonight, if I were you, " said Bannon, significantly. Then hebegan writing letters himself. 

Peterson and Vogel came into the office a few minutes later. 

"Writing a letter to your girl?" said Peterson, jocularly. 

"We ought to have a stenographer out here, Pete. "

"Stenographer! I didn't know you was such a dude. You'll be wanting asolid silver electric bell connecting with the sody fountain next. "

"That's straight, " said Bannon. "We ought to have a stenographer for afact. "

He said nothing until he had finished and sealed the two letters he waswriting. They were as follows:--

DEAR MR. BROWN: It's a mess and no mistake. I'm glad Mr. MacBride didn'tcome to see it. He'd have fits. The whole job is tied up in a hard knot. Peterson is wearing out chair bottoms waiting for the cribbing fromLedyard. I expect we will have a strike before long. I mean it. 

The main house is most up to the distributing floor. The spouting house isframed. The annex is up as far as the bottom, waiting for cribbing. 

Yours, BANNON. 

P. S. I hope this letter makes you sweat to pay you for last Saturdaynight. I am about dead. Can't get any sleep. And I lost thirty-two poundsup to Duluth. I expect to die down here. C. B. 

P. S. I guess we'd better set fire to the whole damn thing and collect theinsurance and skip. C. 

The other was shorter. 

MACBRIDE & COMPANY, Minneapolis:

Gentlemen: I came on the Calumet job today. Found it held up by failure ofcribbing from Ledyard. Will have at least enough to work with by end ofthe week. We will get the house done according to specifications. 

Yours truly, MACBRIDE & COMPANY. CHARLES BANNON. 

CHAPTER II

The five o'clock whistle had sounded, and Peterson sat on the bench insidethe office door, while Bannon washed his hands in the tin basin. Thetwilight was already settling; within the shanty, whose dirty, small-panedwindows served only to indicate the lesser darkness without, a wall lamp, set in a dull reflector, threw shadows into the corners. 

"You're, coming up with me, ain't you?" said Peterson. "I don't believeyou'll get much to eat. Supper's just the pickings from dinner. "

"Well, the dinner was all right. But I wish you had a bigger bed. I ain'tslept for two nights. "

"What was the matter?"

"I was on the sleeper last night; and I didn't get in from the Duluth jobtill seven o'clock Saturday night, and Brown was after me before I'd gotmy supper. Those fellows at the office wouldn't let a man sleep at all ifthey could help it. Here I'd been working like a nigger 'most five monthson the Duluth house--and the last three weeks running night shifts andSundays; didn't stop to eat, half the time--and what does Brown do but--'Well, ' he says, 'how're you feeling, Charlie?' 'Middling, ' said I. 'Areyou up to a little job tomorrow?' 'What's that?' I said. 'Seems to me ifI've got to go down to the Calumet job Sunday night I might have an houror so at home. ' 'Well, Charlie, ' he says, 'I'm mighty sorry, but you seewe've been putting in a big rope drive on a water-power plant over atStillwater. We got the job on the high bid, ' he says, 'and we agreed tohave it running on Monday morning. It'll play the devil with us if wecan't make good. ' 'What's the matter?' said I. 'Well, ' he says, 'Murphy'shad the job and has balled himself up. '"

By this time the two men had their coats on, and were outside thebuilding. 

"Let's see, " said Bannon, "we go this way, don't we?"

"Yes. "

There was still the light, flying flakes of snow, and the biting wind thatcame sweeping down from the northwest. The two men crossed the siding, and, picking their way between the freight cars on the Belt Line tracks, followed the path that wound across the stretch of dusty meadow. 

"Go ahead, " said Peterson; "you was telling about Murphy. "

"Well, that was the situation. I could see that Brown was up on his hindlegs about it, but it made me tired, all the same. Of course the job hadto be done, but I wasn't letting him have any satisfaction. I told him heought to give it to somebody else, and he handed me a lot of stuff aboutmy experience. Finally I said: 'You come around in the morning, Mr. Brown. I ain't had any sleep to speak of for three weeks. I lost thirty-twopounds, ' I said, 'and I ain't going to be bothered tonight. ' Well, sir, hekind of shook his head, but he went away, and I got to thinking about it. Long about half-past seven I went down and got a time-table. There was atrain to Stillwater at eight-forty-two. "

"That night?"

"Sure. I went over to the shops with an express wagon and got a thousandfeet of rope--had it in two coils so I could handle it--and just made thetrain. It was a mean night. There was some rain when I started, but youought to have seen it when I got to Stillwater--it was coming down inlayers, and mud that sucked your feet down halfway to your knees. Therewasn't a wagon anywhere around the station, and the agent wouldn't lift afinger. It was blind dark. I walked off the end of the platform, and wentplump into a mudhole. I waded up as far as the street crossing, wherethere was an electric light, and ran across a big lumber yard, and hungaround until I found the night watchman. He was pretty near as mean as thestation agent, but he finally let me have a wheelbarrow for half a dollar, and told me how to get to the job. 

"He called it fifty rods, but it was a clean mile if it was a step, andmost of the way down the track, I wheeled her back to the station, got therope, and started out. Did you ever try to shove two five hundred footcoils over a mile of crossties? Well, that's what I did. I scraped off asmuch mud as I could, so I could lift my feet, and bumped over those tiestill I thought the teeth were going to be jarred clean out of me. After Igot off the track there was a stretch of mud that left the road by thestation up on dry land. 

"There was a fool of a night watchman at the power plant--I reckon hethought I was going to steal the turbines, but he finally let me in, and Iset him to starting up the power while I cleaned up Murphy's job and putin the new rope. "

"All by yourself?" asked Peterson. 

"Sure thing. Then I got her going and she worked smooth as grease. When weshut down and I came up to wash my hands, it was five minutes of three. Isaid, 'Is there a train back to Minneapolis before very long?' 'Yes, ' saysthe watchman, 'the fast freight goes through a little after three. ' 'Howmuch after?' I said. 'Oh, ' he says, 'I couldn't say exactly. Five or eightminutes, I guess. ' I asked when the next train went, and he said therewasn't a regular passenger till six-fifty-five. Well, sir, maybe you thinkI was going to wait four hours in that hole! I went out of that buildingto beat the limited--never thought of the wheelbarrow till I was halfwayto the station. And there was some of the liveliest stepping you ever saw. Couldn't see a thing except the light on the rails from the arc lamp up bythe station. I got about halfway there--running along between the rails--and banged into a switch--knocked me seven ways for Sunday. Lost my hatpicking myself up, and couldn't stop to find it. "

Peterson turned in toward one of a long row of square frame houses. 

"Here we are, " he said. As they went up the stairs he asked: "Did you makethe train?"

"Caught the caboose just as she was swinging out. They dumped me out inthe freight yards, and I didn't get home till 'most five o'clock. I wentright to bed, and along about eight o'clock Brown came in and woke me up. He was feeling pretty nervous. 'Say, Charlie, ' he said, 'ain't it time foryou to be starting?' 'Where to?' said I. 'Over to Stillwater, ' he said. 'There ain't any getting out of it. That drive's got to be runningtomorrow. ' 'That's all right, ' said I, 'but I'd like to know if I can'thave one day's rest between jobs--Sunday, too. And I lost thirty-twopounds. ' Well, sir, he didn't know whether to get hot or not. I guess hethought himself they were kind of rubbing it in. 'Look here, ' he said, 'are you going to Stillwater, or ain't you?' 'No, ' said I, 'I ain't. Notfor a hundred rope drives. ' Well, he just got up and took his hat andstarted out. 'Mr. Brown, ' I said, when he was opening the door, 'I lost myhat down at Stillwater last night. I reckon the office ought to stand forit. ' He turned around and looked queer, and then he grinned. 'So you wentover?' he said. 'I reckon I did, ' said I. 'What kind of a hat did youlose?' he asked, and he grinned again. 'I guess it was a silk one, wasn'tit?' 'Yes, ' said I, 'a silk hat--something about eight dollars. '"

"Did he mean he'd give you a silk hat?" asked Peterson. 

"Couldn't say. "

They were sitting in the ten-by-twelve room that Peterson rented for adollar a week. Bannon had the one chair, and was sitting tipped backagainst the washstand. Peterson sat on the bed. Bannon had thrown hisovercoat over the foot of the bed, and had dropped his bag on the floor bythe window. 

"Ain't it time to eat, Pete?" he said. 

"Yes, there's the bell. "

The significance of Bannon's arrival, and the fact that he was planning tostay, was slow in coming to Peterson. After supper, when they had returnedto the room, his manner showed constraint. Finally he said:--

"Is there any fuss up at the office?"

"What about?"

"Why--do they want to rush the job or something?"

"Well, we haven't got such a lot of time. You see, it's November already. "

"What's the hurry all of a sudden? They didn't say nothing to me. "

"I guess you haven't been crowding it very hard, have you?"

Peterson flushed. 

"I've been working harder than I ever did before, " he said. "If it wasn'tfor the cribbing being held up like this, I'd 'a' had the cupola half donebefore now. I've been playing in hard luck. "

Bannon was silent for a moment, then he said:--

"How long do you suppose it would take to get the cribbing down fromLedyard?"

"Not very long if it was rushed, I should think--a couple of days, ormaybe three. And they'll rush it all right when they can get the cars. Yousee, it's only ten or eleven hours up there, passenger schedule; and theycould run it right in on the job over the Belt Line. "

"It's the Belt Line that crosses the bridge, is it?"

"Yes. "

Bannon spread his legs apart and drummed on the front of his chair. 

"What's the other line?" he asked--"the four track line?"

"That's the C. & S. C. We don't have nothing to do with them. "

They were both silent for a time. The flush had not left Peterson's face. His eyes were roving over the carpet, lifting now and then to Bannon'sface with a quick glance. 

"Guess I'll shave, " said Bannon. "Do you get hot water here?"

"Why, I don't know, " replied Peterson. "I generally use cold water. Thefolks here ain't very obliging. Kind o' poor, you know. "

Bannon was rummaging in his grip for his shaving kit. 

"You never saw a razor like that, Pete, " he said. "Just heft it once. "

"Light, ain't it, " said Peterson, taking it in his hand. 

"You bet it's light. And look here"--he reached for it and drew it backand forth over the palm of his hand--"that's the only stropping I evergive it. "

"Don't you have to hone it?"

"No, sir; it's never been touched to a stone or leather. You just get upand try it once. Those whiskers of yours won't look any the worse for achopping. "

Peterson laughed, and lathered his face, while Bannon put an edge on therazor, testing it with a hair. 

"Say, that's about the best yet, " said Peterson, after the first stroke. 

"You're right it is. "

Bannon looked on for a few minutes, then he took a railroad "Pathfinder"from his grip and rapidly turned the pages. Peterson saw it in the mirror, and asked, between strokes:--

"What are you going to do?"

"Looking up trains. "

While Peterson was splashing in the washbowl, Bannon took his turn at themirror. 

"How's the Duluth job getting on?" asked Peterson, when Bannon hadfinished, and was wiping his razor. 

"All right--'most done. Just a little millwright work left, and somecleaning up. "

"There ain't any marine leg on the house, is there?"

"No. "

"How big a house is it?"

"Eight hundred thousand bushels. "

"That so? Ain't half as big as this one, is it?"

"Guess not. Built for the same people, though, Page & Company. "

"They must be going in pretty heavy. "

"They are. There's a good deal of talk about it. Some of the boys up atthe office say there's going to be fun with December wheat before they getthrough with it. It's been going up pretty steadily since the end ofSeptember--it was seventy-four and three-eighths Saturday in Minneapolis. It ain't got up quite so high down here yet, but the boys say there'sgoing to be a lot of money in it for somebody. "

"Be a kind of a good thing to get in on, eh?" said Peterson, cautiously. 

"Maybe, for those that like to put money in wheat. I've got no money forthat sort of thing myself. "

"Yes, of course, " was Peterson's quick reply. "A fellow doesn't want torun them kind o' chances. I don't believe in it myself. "

"The fact's this, --and this is just between you and me, mind you; I don'tknow anything about it, it's only what I think, --somebody's buying a lotof December wheat, or the price wouldn't keep going up. And I've got anotion that, whoever he is, it's Page & Company that's selling it to him. That's just putting two and two together, you see. It's the real grainthat the Pages handle, and if they sell to a man it means that they'regoing to make a mighty good try at unloading it on him and making him payfor it. That's all I know about it. I see the Pages selling--or what looksmighty like it--and I see them beginning to look around and talk on thequiet about crowding things a little on their new houses, and it juststrikes me that there's likely to be a devil of a lot of wheat coming intoChicago before the year runs out; and if that's so, why, there's got to bea place to put it when it gets here. "

"Do they have to have an elevator to put it in?" asked Peterson. "Can'tthey deliver it in the cars? I don't know much about that side of thebusiness. "

"I should say not. The Board of Trade won't recognize grain as delivereduntil it has been inspected and stored in a registered house. "

"When would the house have to be ready?"

"Well, if I'm right, if they're going to put December wheat in this house, they'll have to have it in before the last day of December. "

"We couldn't do that, " said Peterson, "if the cribbing was here. "

Bannon, who had stretched out on the bed, swung his feet around and satup. The situation was not easy, but he had been sent to Calumet to get thework done in time, and he meant to do it. 

"Now, about this cribbing, Pete, " he said; "we've got to have it before wecan touch the annex?"

"I guess that's about it, " Peterson replied. 

"I've been figuring a little on this bill. I take it there's somethingover two million feet altogether. Is that right?"

"It's something like that. Couldn't say exactly. Max takes care of thelumber. "

Bannon's brows came together. 

"You ought to know a little more about this yourself, Pete. You're the manthat's building the house. "

"I guess I've been pushing it along as well as any one could, " saidPeterson, sullenly. 

"That's all right. I ain't hitting at you. I'm talking business, that'sall. Now, if Vogel's right, this cribbing ought to have been here fourteendays ago--fourteen days tomorrow. "

Peterson nodded. 

"That's just two weeks of lost time. How've you been planning to make thatup?"

"Why--why--I reckon I can put things together soon's I get the cribbing. "

"Look here, Pete. The office has contracted to get this house done by acertain date. They've got to pay $750 for every day that we run over thatdate. There's no getting out of that, cribbing or no cribbing. Whenthey're seeing ten or twenty thousand dollars slipping out of their hands, do you think they're going to thank you for telling 'em that the G. &M. Railroad couldn't get cars? They don't care what's the matter--all theywant of you is to do the work on time. "

"Now, look here, Charlie--"

"Hold on, Pete. Don't get mad. It's facts, that's all. Here's these twoweeks gone. You see that, all right enough. Now, the way this work's laidout, a man's got to make every day count right from the start if he wantsto land on his feet when the house is done. Maybe you think somebody up inthe sky is going to hand you down a present of two extra weeks so the losttime won't count. That would be all right, only it ain't very likely tohappen. "

"Well, " said Peterson, "what are you getting at? What do you want me todo? Perhaps you think it's easy. "

"No, I don't. But I'll tell you what to do. In the first place you want toquit this getting out on the job and doing a laborer's work. The office ispaying out good money to the men that should do that. You know how to laya corbel, but just now you couldn't tell me how much cribbing was coming. You're paid to direct this whole job and to know all about it, not to laycorbels. If you put in half a day swinging a sledge out there on thespouting house, how're you going to know that the lumber bills tally, andthe carpenters ain't making mistakes, and that the timber's piled right. Here today you had a dozen men throwing away their time moving a lot oftimber that ought to have been put in the right place when it first camein. "

Peterson was silent. 

"Now tomorrow, Pete, as soon as you've got the work moving along, you'dbetter go over to the electric light company and see about having thewhole ground wired for arc lamps, --so we can be ready to put on a nightshift the minute the cribbing comes in. You want to crowd 'em, too. Theyought to have it ready in two days. "

Bannon sat for a moment, then he arose and looked at his watch. 

"I'm going to leave you, Pete, " he said, as he put on his collar. 

"Where're you going?"

"I've got to get up to the city to make the ten o'clock train. I'm goingup to Ledyard to get the cribbing. Be back in a couple of days. "

He threw his shaving kit into his grip, put on his overcoat, saidgood-night, and went out. 

CHAPTER III

Next morning at eight o'clock Charlie Bannon walked into the office of C. H. Dennis, the manager of the Ledyard Salt and Lumber Company. 

"I'm Bannon, " he said, "of MacBride & Company. Come up to see why youdon't get out our bill of cribbing. "

"Told you by letter, " retorted Dennis. "We can't get the cars. "

"I know you did. That's a good thing to say in a letter. I wanted to findout how much of it really was cut. "

"It's all cut and stacked by the siding, taking up half the yard. Want tosee it?"

Bannon smiled and nodded. "Here's a good cigar for you, " he said, "andyou're a good fellow, but I think I'd like to see the cribbing. "

"Oh, that's all right, " laughed Dennis. "I'd have said the same thing ifit wasn't cut. Come out this way. "

Bannon followed him out into the yard. "There it is, " said the manager. 

There was no need of pointing it out. It made a pile more than threehundred feet long. It was nothing but rough hemlock, two inches thick, andfrom two to ten inches wide, intended to be spiked together flatwise forthe walls of the bins, but its bulk was impressive. Bannon measured itwith his eye and whistled. "I wish that had been down on our job ten daysago, " he said, presently. "I'd be taking a vacation now if it had. "

"Well, it was ready then. You can tell by the color. "

"What's the matter with the G. &M. Anyway? They don't seem to be haulingvery much. I noticed that last night when I came up. I'm no good atsleeping on the train. "

"Search me, " said Dennis. "They've tied us up for these two weeks. I'vekicked for cars, and the old man--that's Sloan--he's kicked, but here weare yet--can't move hand or foot. "

"Who's Sloan?"

"Oh, he's the whole thing. Owns the First National Bank and the trolleyline and the Ledyard Salt and Lumber Company and most of the downtown realestate. "

"Where can I find him? Is he in town?"

"I guess so. He's got an office across the river. Just ask anybody wherethe Sloan Building is. "

"Likely to be there as early as this?" asked Bannon, looking at his watch. 

"Sure, if he's in town. "

Bannon slipped his watch into his pocket. "Much obliged, " he said. "Gladto have met you. Good morning;" and, turning, he walked rapidly away downthe plank wagon road. 

In Sloan's office he stated his errand as briefly as on the formeroccasion, adding only that he had already seen Dennis. 

"I guess he told you all there is to tell, " said the magnate. "We can'tmake the G. &M. Give us cars. I've told Dennis to stir 'em up as hard as hecould. I guess we'll have to wait. "

"I can't wait. "

"What else can you do? It's every bit as bad for us as it is for you, andyou can rest assured that we'll do all we can. " As if the cadence of hislast sentence were not sufficiently recognizable as a formula ofdismissal, he picked up a letter that lay on his desk and began readingit. 

"This isn't an ordinary kick, " said Bannon sharply. "It isn't just a caseof us having to pay a big delay forfeit. There's a reason why our job'sgot to be done on time. I want to know the reason why the G. &M. Won't giveyou cars. It ain't because they haven't got them. "

"What makes you say that?"

"Because there's three big strings of empties within twenty miles of herethis minute. I saw them when I came up this morning. "

For a minute Sloan said nothing, only traced designs on the blotter withhis pencil. Bannon saw that there was no longer any question of arousinghis interest. At last he spoke:--

"I've suspected that there was something in the wind, but I've been toobusy with other things to tend to it, so I turned it over to Dennis. Perhaps he's done as well as I could I don't know much about G. &M. Thesedays. For a long time they were at me to take a big block of treasurystock, but the road seemed to me in bad shape, so I wouldn't go in. Latelythey've reorganized--have got a lot of new money in there--I don't knowwhose, but they've let me alone. There's been no row, you understand. Thatain't the reason they've tied us up, but I haven't known much about whatwas going on inside. "

"Would they be likely to tell you if you asked? I mean if you took it toheadquarters?"

"I couldn't get any more out of them than you could--that is, not byasking. "

"I guess I'll go look 'em up myself. Where can I find anybody that knowsanything?"

"The division offices are at Blake City. That's only about twenty miles. You could save time by talking over the 'phone. "

"Not me, " said Bannon. "In a case like this I couldn't express myselfproperly unless I saw the fellow I was talking to. "

Sloan laughed. "I guess you're right. But I'll call up the divisionsuperintendent and tell him you're coming. Then you'll be sure of findinghim. "

Bannon shook his head. "I'd find him with his little speech all learned. No, I'll take my chances on his being there. When's the train?"

"Nine-forty-six. "

"That gives me fifteen minutes. Can I make it?"

"Not afoot, and you ain't likely to catch a car. I'll drive you down. I'vegot the fastest mare in Pottawatomie County. "

The fact that the G. &M. Had been rescued from its poverty and was about tobe "developed" was made manifest in Blake City by the modern buildingwhich the railroad was erecting on the main street. Eventually thedivision officials were to be installed in office suites of mahoganyveneer, with ground glass doors lettered in gold leaf. For the present, asfrom the beginning, they occupied an upper floor of a freight warehouse. Bannon came in about eleven o'clock, looked briefly about, and seeing thatone corner was partitioned off into a private office, he ducked under thehand rail intended to pen up ordinary visitors, and made for it. Atelegraph operator just outside the door asked what his business was, buthe answered merely that it was with the superintendent, and went in. 

He expected rather rough work. The superintendent of a railroad, or of adivision, has to do with the employees, never with the customers, and hisprofessional manner is not likely to be distinguished by suavity. So heunconsciously squared his shoulders when he said, "I'm Bannon, of MacBride& Company. "

The superintendent dismissed his stenographer, swept with his arm a clearspace on the desk, and then drummed on it with his fingers, but he did notlook up immediately. When he did, it was with an expression of graveconcern. 

"Mr. Bannon, " he said, "I'm mighty sorry. I'll do anything I can for you. You can smoke ten cent cigars on me from now till Christmas, and lightthem with passes. Anything--"

"If you feel like that, " said Bannon, "we can fix things all comfortablein three minutes. All I want is cars. "

The superintendent shook his head. "There's where you stump me, " he said. "I haven't got 'em. "

"Mr. Superintendent, that's what they told me in Chicago, and that's whatthey told me at Ledyard. I didn't come up here to Blake City to be toldthe same thing and then go back home. "

"Well, I don't know what else I can tell you. That's just the size of it. I hope we'll be able to fix you in a few days, but we can't promiseanything. "

Bannon frowned, and after an expectant pause, the superintendent went ontalking vaguely about the immense rush of traffic. Finally he asked, "Whydo you think we'd hold you up if we had the cars?"

"That's what I came here to find out. I think you're mistaken about nothaving them. "

The superintendent laughed. "You can't expect to know more about that thanI do. You doubtless understand your business, but this is my business. Ifyou can tell me where the cars are, you can have them. "

"Well, as you say, that's your business. But I can tell you. There's a bigstring of empties--I counted fourteen--on the siding at Victory. "

The superintendent looked out of the window and again drummed on the desk. When he spoke again, his manner was more what one would expect from adivision superintendent. "You don't know anything about it. When we wantadvice how to run our road we'll ask you for it. Victory isn't in mydivision anyway. "

"Then wire the general manager. He ought to know something about it. "

"Wire him yourself, if you like. I can't bother about it. I'm sorry Ican't do anything, but I haven't got time. "

"I haven't begun sending telegrams yet. And I haven't very much more timeto fool away. I'd like to have you find out if the Ledyard Salt and LumberCompany can have those cars that are on the siding at Victory. "

"All right, " said the superintendent, rising. At the door he turned backto ask, "When was it you saw them?"

Bannon decided to chance it. "Yesterday morning, " he said. 

The superintendent returned presently, and, turning to his desk, resumedhis work. A few minutes later the telegraph operator came in and told himthat the cars at Victory had been loaded with iron truss work the nightbefore, and had gone off down the State. 

"Just too late, wasn't I?" said Bannon. "That's hard luck. " He went to thewindow and, staring out into the yards, began tapping idly with his pencilon the glass. The office door was open, and when he paused he heard thetelegraph instrument just without, clicking out a message. 

"Anything else I can do for you?" asked the superintendent. His good humorwas returning at the sight of his visitor's perplexity. 

"I wish you'd just wire the general manager once more and ask him if hecan't possibly let us have those cars. "

"All right, " said the other, cheerfully. He nodded to the operator. "Forthe Ledyard Salt and Lumber Company, " he said. 

Bannon dropped into a chair, stretched himself, and yawned. "I'm sleepy, "he said; "haven't had any sleep in three weeks. Lost thirty-two pounds. Ifyou fellows had only got that cribbing down on time, I'd be having avacation--"

Another yawn interrupted him. The telegraph receiver had begun giving outthe general manager's answer. 

Tell-Ledyard-we-hope-to-have-cars-in-a-few-days-

The superintendent looked at Bannon, expecting him to finish his sentence, but he only yawned again. 

obey-previous-instructions. --Do-not-give-Ledyard-cars-in-any-case-

Bannon's eyes were half closed, but the superintendent thought he wasturning a little toward the open doorway. 

"Do you feel cold?" he asked. "I'll shut the door. "

He rose quickly and started toward it, but Bannon was there before him. Hehesitated, his hand on the knob. 

"Why don't you shut it?" snapped the superintendent. 

"I think I'll--I think I'll send a telegram. "

"Here's a blank, in here. Come in. " But Bannon had slipped out and wasstanding beside the operator's table. From the doorway the superintendentsaw him biting his pencil and frowning over a bit of paper. The generalmanager's message was still coming in. 

We-don't-help-put-up-any-grain-elevator-in-Chicago-these-days. 

As the last click sounded, Bannon handed his message to the operator. "Send it collect, " he said. With that he strode away, over the hand rail, this time, and down the stairs. The operator carried the message to thesuperintendent. 

"It seems to be for you, " he said. 

The superintendent read--

Div. Supt. G. &M. , Blake City. Tell manager it takes better man than him totie us up. MACBRIDE & COMPANY. 

Bannon had nearly an hour to wait for the next train back to Ledyard, butit was not time wasted, for as he paced the smoky waiting room, he arrivedat a fairly accurate estimate of the meaning of the general manager'smessage. 

It was simply a confirmaton of the cautious prediction he had made toPeterson the night before. Why should any one want to hinder theconstruction of an elevator in Chicago "these days" except to prevent itsuse for the formal delivery of grain which the buyer did not wishdelivered? And why had Page & Company suddenly ordered a million bushelannex? Why had they suddenly become anxious that the elevator should beready to receive grain before January first, unless they wished to delivera vast amount of December wheat? Before Bannon's train came in heunderstood it all. A clique of speculators had decided to corner wheat, anenterprise nearly enough impossible in any case, but stark madness unlessthey had many millions at command. It was a long chance, of course, butafter all not wonderful that some one in their number was a power in thereorganized G. &M. 

Already the immense amount of wheat in Chicago was testing the capacity ofthe registered warehouses, and plainly, if the Calumet K should be delayedlong enough, it might prevent Page & Company from carrying out theircontract to deliver two million bushels of the grain, even though it wereactually in the cars in Chicago. 

Bannon knew much of Page & Company; that dotted all over the vast wheattracts of Minnesota and Montana were their little receiving elevatorswhere they bought grain of the farmers; that miles of wheat-laden freightcars were already lumbering eastward along the railroad lines of theNorth. He had a touch of imagination, and something of the enormousmomentum of that Northern wheat took possession of him. It would come toChicago, and he must be ready for it. It would be absurd to be balked bythe refusal of a little single-track road up in Michigan to carry a pileof planks. 

He paused before the grated window of the ticket and telegraph office andasked for a map. He studied it attentively for a while; then he sent atelegram:--

MACBRIDE & COMPANY, Minneapolis: G. &M. R. R. Wants to tie us up. Will notfurnish cars to carry our cribbing. Can't get it elsewhere inside of threeweeks. Find out if Page will O. K. Any bill of extras I send in forbringing it down. If so, can they have one or more steam barges atManistogee within forty-eight hours? Wire Ledyard Hotel. C. H. BANNON. 

It was an hour's ride back to Ledyard. He went to the hotel and persuadedthe head waiter to give him something to eat, although it was long afterthe dinner hour. As he left the dining room, the clerk handed him twotelegrams. One read:--

Get cribbing down. Page pays the freight. BROWN. 

The other:--

Steam barge Demosthenes leaves Milwaukee tonight for Manistogee. PAGE & Co. 

CHAPTER IV

As Bannon was paying for his dinner, he asked the clerk what sort of aplace Manistogee was. The clerk replied that he had never been there, butthat he understood it was quite a lively town. 

"Good road over there?"

"Pretty fair. "

"That means you can get through if you're lucky. "

The clerk smiled. "It won't be so bad today. You see we've been getting agood deal of rain. That packs down the sand. You ought to get there allright. Were you thinking of driving over?"

"That's the only way to go, is it? Well, I'll see. Maybe a little later. How far is it?"

"The farmers call it eighteen miles. "

Bannon nodded his thanks and went back to Sloan's office. 

"Well, it didn't take you long, " said the magnate. "Find out what was thematter with'em?"

Illustration [HE CURSED THE WHOLE G. &M. SYSTEM, FROM THE TIES UP]

He enjoyed his well-earned reputation for choler, and as Bannon told himwhat he had discovered that morning, the old man paced the room in aregular beat, pausing every time he came to a certain tempting bit ofblank wall to deal it a thump with his big fist. When the whole situationwas made clear to him, he stopped walking and cursed the whole G. &M. System, from the ties up. "I'll make 'em smart for that, " he said. "Theyhaul those planks whether they want to or not. You hear me say it. There'sa law that covers a case like that. I'll prosecute 'em. They'll seewhether J. B. Sloan is a safe kind of man to monkey with. Why, man, " headded, turning sharply to Bannon, "why don't you get mad? You don't seemto care--no more than the angel Gabriel. "

"I don't care a damn for the G. &M. I want the cribbing. "

"Don't you worry. I'll have the law on those fellows--"

"And I'd get the stuff about five years from now, when I was likely enoughdead. "

"What's the best way to get it, according to your idea?"

"Take it over to Manistogee in wagons and then down by barges. "

Sloan snorted. "You'd stand a chance to get some of it by Fourth of Julythat way. "

"Do you want to bet on that proposition?"

Sloan made no reply. He had allowed his wrath to boil for a few minutesmerely as a luxury. Now he was thinking seriously of the scheme. "Itsounds like moonshine, " he said at last, "but I don't know as it is. Howare you going to get your barges?"

"I've got one already. It leaves Milwaukee tonight. "

Sloan looked him over. "I wish you were out of a job, " he said. Thenabruptly he went on: "Where are your wagons coming from? You haven't gotthem all lined up in the yard now, have you? It'll take a lot of them. "

"I know it. Well, we'll get all there are in Ledyard. There's a beginning. And the farmers round here ain't so very fond of the G. &M. , are they?Don't they think the railroad discriminates against them--and ain't theyright about it? I never saw a farmer yet that wouldn't grab a chance toget even with a railroad. "

"That's about right, in this part of the country, anyway. "

"You get up a regular circus poster saying what you think of the G. &M. , and call on the farmers to hitch up and drive to your lumber yard. We'llstick that up at every crossroads between here and Manistogee. "

Sloan was scribbling on a memorandum pad before Bannon had finishedspeaking. He made a false start or two, but presently got something thatseemed to please him. He rang for his office boy, and told him to take itto the Eagle office. 

"It's got to be done in an hour, " said Bannon. "That's when the processionmoves, " he added, as Sloan looked at him questioningly. 

The other nodded. "In an hour, " he said to the office boy. "What are yougoing to do in an hour?" he asked, as the boy went out. 

"Why, it'll be four o'clock then, and we ought to start for Manistogee asearly as we can. "

"We! Well, I should think not!" said Sloan. 

"You're going to drive me over with that fast mare of yours, aren't you?"

Sloan laughed. "Look at it rain out there. "

"Best thing in the world for a sand road, " said Bannon. "And we'll wash, Iguess. Both been wet before. "

"But it's twenty-five miles over there--twenty-five to thirty. "

Bannon looked at his watch. "We ought to get there by ten o'clock, Ishould think. "

"Ten o'clock! What do you think she is--a sawhorse! She never took morethan two hours to Manistogee in her life. "

The corners of Bannon's mouth twitched expressively. Sloan laughed again. "I guess it's up to me this time, " he said. 

Before they started Sloan telephoned to the Eagle office to tell them toprint a full-sized reproduction of his poster on the front page of theLedyard Evening Eagle. 

"Crowd their news a little, won't it?" Bannon asked. 

Sloan shook his head. "That helps 'em out in great shape. "

The Eagle did not keep them waiting. The moment Sloan pulled up hisimpatient mare before the office door, the editor ran out, bareheaded, inthe rain, with the posters. 

"They're pretty wet yet, " he said. 

"That's all right. I only want a handful. Send the others to my office. They know what to do with 'em. "

"I was glad to print them, " the editor went on deferentially. "You haveexpressed our opinion of the G. &M. Exactly. "

"Guess I did, " said Sloan as they drove away. "The reorganized G. &M. Decided they didn't want to carry him around the country on a pass. "

Bannon pulled out one of the sheets and opened it on his knee. He whistledas he read the first sentence, and swore appreciatively over the next. When he had finished, he buttoned the waterproof apron and rubbed his wethands over his knees. "It's grand, " he said. "I never saw anything likeit. "

Sloan spoke to the mare. He had held her back as they jolted over the wornpavement of cedar blocks, but now they had reached the city limits andwere starting out upon the rain-beaten sand. She was a tall, clean-limbedsorrel, a Kentucky-bred Morgan, and as she settled into her stride, Bannonwatched her admiringly. Her wet flanks had the dull sheen of bronze. 

"Don't tell me, " said Sloan, "that Michigan roads are no good for driving. You never had anything finer than this in your life. " They sped along ason velvet, noiselessly save when their wheels sliced through standingpools of water. "She can keep this up till further notice, I suppose, "said Bannon. Sloan nodded. 

Soon they reached the first crossroad. There was a general store at onecorner, and, opposite, a blacksmith's shop. Sloan pulled up and Bannonsprang out with a hammer, a mouthful of tacks, and three or four of theposters. He put them up on the sheltered side of conspicuous trees, leftone with the storekeeper, and another with the smith. Then they drove on. 

They made no pretence at conversation. Bannon seemed asleep save that hewas always ready with his hammer and his posters whenever Sloan halted themare. The west wind freshened as the evening came on and dashed fine, sleety rain into their faces. Bannon huddled his wet coat closer abouthim. Sloan put the reins between his knees and pulled on a pair of heavygloves. 

It had been dark for half an hour--Bannon could hardly distinguish themoving figure of the mare--when Sloan spoke to her and drew her to a walk. Bannon reached for his hammer. "No crossroad here, " said Sloan. "Bridgeout of repair. We've got to fetch a circle here up to where she can wadeit. "

"Hold on, " said Bannon sharply. "Let me get out. "

"Don't be scared. We'll make it all right. "

"We! Yes, but will fifteen hundred feet of lumber make it? I want to takea look. "

He splashed forward in the dark, but soon returned. "It's nothing thatcan't be fixed in two hours. Where's the nearest farmhouse?"

"Fifty rods up the road to your right. "

Again Bannon disappeared. Presently Sloan heard the deep challenge of abig dog. He backed the buggy around up against the wind so that he couldhave shelter while he waited. Then he pulled a spare blanket from underthe seat and threw it over the mare. At the end of twenty minutes, he sawa lantern bobbing toward him. 

The big farmer who accompanied Bannon held the lantern high and lookedover the mare. "It's her all right, " he said. Then he turned so that thelight shone full in Sloan's face. "Good evening, Mr. Sloan, " he said. "You'll excuse me, but is what this gentleman tells me all straight?"

"Guess it is, " Sloan smiled. "I'd bank on him myself. "

The farmer nodded with satisfaction. "All right then, Mr. What's-your-name. I'll have it done for you. "

Sloan asked no questions until they had forded the stream and were back onthe road. Then he inquired, "What's he going to do?"

"Mend the bridge. I told him it had to be done tonight. Said he couldn't. Hadn't any lumber. Couldn't think of it. I told him to pull down the leeside of his house if necessary; said you'd give him the lumber to build anannex on it. "

"What!"

"Oh, it's all right. Send the bill to MacBride. I knew your name would godown and mine wouldn't. "

The delay had proved costly, and it was half-past seven before theyreached the Manistogee hotel. 

"Now, " said Bannon, "we'll have time to rub down the mare and feed herbefore I'm ready to go back. "

Sloan stared at him for a moment in unfeigned amazement. Then slowly heshook his head. "All right, I'm no quitter. But I will say that I'm gladyou ain't coming to Ledyard to live. "

Bannon left the supper table before Sloan had finished, and was gonenearly an hour. "It's all fixed up, " he said when he returned. "I'vecinched the wharf. "

They started back as they had come, in silence, Bannon crowding as low aspossible in his ulster, dozing. But he roused when the mare, of her ownaccord, left the road at the detour for the ford. 

"You don't need to do that, " he said. "The bridge is fixed. " So they drovestraight across, the mare feeling her way cautiously over the new-laidplanks. 

The clouds were thinning, so that there was a little light, and Bannonleaned forward and looked about. 

"How did you get hold of the message from the general manager?" askedSloan abruptly. 

"Heard it. I can read Morse signals like print. Used to work for the GrandTrunk. "

"What doing?"

"Boss of a wrecking gang. " Bannon paused. Presently he went on. 

"Yes, there was two years when I slept with my boots on. Didn't know aquiet minute. Never could tell what I was going to get up against. I neversaw two wrecks that were anything alike. There was a junction about fiftymiles down the road where they used to have collisions regular; but theywere all different. I couldn't figure out what I was going to do till Iwas on the ground, and then I didn't have time to. My only order was, 'Clear the road--and be damn quick about it. ' What I said went. I've setfire to fifty thousand dollars' worth of mixed freight just to get it outof the way--and they never kicked. That ain't the kind of life for me, though. No, nor this ain't, either. I want to be quiet. I've never had achance yet, and I've been looking for it ever since I was twelve yearsold. I'd like to get a little farm and live on it all by myself. I'd raisegarden truck, cabbages, and such, and I'd take piano lessons. "

"Is that why you quit the Grand Trunk? So that you could take pianolessons?" Sloan laughed as he asked the question, but Bannon repliedseriously:--

"Why, not exactly. There was a little friction between me and the mastermechanic, so I resigned. I didn't exactly resign, either, " he added amoment later. "I wired the superintendent to go to hell. It came to thesame thing. "

"I worked for a railroad once myself, " said Sloan. "Was a hostler in theroundhouse at Syracuse, New York. I never worked up any higher than that. I had ambitions to be promoted to the presidency, but it didn't seem verylikely, so I gave it up and came West. "

"You made a good thing of it. You seem to own most all PotfawatomieCounty. "

"Pretty much. "

"I wish you would tell me how to do it. I have worked like anall-the-year-round blast furnace ever since I could creep, and neverslighted a job yet, but here I am--can't call my soul my own. I havesaved fifteen thousand dollars, but that ain't enough to stop with. Idon't see why I don't own a county too. "

"There's some luck about it. And then I don't believe you look very sharpfor opportunities. I suppose you are too busy. You've got a chance thisminute to turn your fifteen thousand to fifty; maybe lot more. "

"I'm afraid I'm too thick-headed to see it. "

"Why, what you found out this morning was the straightest kind of astraight tip on the wheat market for the next two months. A big elevatorlike yours will be almost decisive. The thing's right in your own hands. If Page & Company can't make that delivery, why, fellows who buy wheat noware going to make money. "

"I see, " said Bannon, quickly. "All I'd have to do would be to buy all thewheat I could get trusted for and then hold back the job a little. Andwhile I was at it, I might just as well make a clean job and walk off withthe pay roll. " He laughed. "I'd look pretty, wouldn't I, going to oldMacBride with my tail between my legs, telling him that the job was toomuch for me and I couldn't get it done on time. He'd look me over and say:'Bannon, you're a liar. You've never had to lay down yet, and you don'tnow. Go back and get that job done before New Year's or I'll shoot you. '"

"You don't want to get rich, that's the trouble with you, " said Sloan, andhe said it almost enviously. 

Bannon rode to Manistogee on the first wagon. The barge was there, so thework of loading the cribbing into her began at once. There were numerousinterruptions at first, but later in the day the stream of wagons becamealmost continuous. Farmers living on other than the Manistogee roads cameinto Ledyard and hurried back to tell their neighbors of the chance to getahead of the railroad for once. Dennis, who was in charge at the yard, hadhard work to keep up with the supply of empty wagons. 

Sloan disappeared early in the morning, but at five o'clock Bannon had atelephone message from him. "I'm here at Blake City, " he said, "raisinghell. The general manager gets here at nine o'clock tonight to talk withme. They're feeling nervous about your getting that message. I think you'dbetter come up here and talk to him. "

So a little after nine that night the three men, Sloan, Bannon, and themanager, sat down to talk it over. And the fact that in the first place anattempt to boycott could be proved, and in the second that Page & Companywere getting what they wanted anyway--while they talked a long processionof cribbing was creaking along by lantern light to Manistogee--finallyconvinced the manager that the time had come to yield as gracefully aspossible. 

"He means it this time, " said Sloan, when he and Bannon were left alone atthe Blake City hotel to talk things over. 

"Yes, I think he does. If he don't, I'll come up here again and have ashort session with him. "

CHAPTER V

Illustration [Map of the Elevator site]

It was nearly five o'clock when Bannon appeared at the elevator onThursday. He at once sought Peterson. 

"Well, what luck did you have?" he asked. "Did you get my message?"

"Your message? Oh, sure. You said the cribbing was coming down by boat. Idon't see how, though. Ledyard ain't on the lake. "

"Well, it's coming just the same, two hundred thousand feet of it. Whathave you done about it?"

"Oh, we'll be ready for it, soon's it gets here. "

They were standing at the north side of the elevator near the paling fencewhich bounded the C. & S. C. Right of way. Bannon looked across the tracksto the wharf; the pile of timber was still there. 

"Did you have any trouble with the railroad when you took your stuffacross for the spouting house?" he asked. 

"Not much of any. The section boss came around and talked a little, but weonly opened the fence in one place, and that seemed to suit him. "

Bannon was looking about, calculating with his eye the space that wasavailable for the incoming lumber. 

"How'd you manage that business, anyway?" asked Peterson. 

"What business?"

"The cribbing. How'd you get it to the lake?"

"Oh, that was easy. I just carried it off. "

"Yes, you did!"

"Look here, Pete, that timber hasn't got any business out there on thewharf. We've got to have that room for the cribbing. "

"That's all right. The steamer won't get in much before tomorrow night, will it?"

"We aren't doing any banking on that. I've got a notion that the Pagesaren't sending out any six-mile-an-hour scow to do their quick work. Thattimber's got to come over here tonight. May as well put it where thecarpenters can get right at it. We'll be on the cupola before long, anyhow. "

"But it's five o'clock already. There's the whistle. "

Bannon waited while the long blast sounded through the crisp air. Then hesaid:--

"Offer the men double pay, and tell them that any man can go home thatwants to, right now, but if they say they'll stay, they've got to see itthrough. "

Already the laborers were hurrying toward the tool house in a long, irregular line. Peterson started toward the office, to give the word tothe men before they could hand in their time checks. 

"Mr. Bannon. "

The foreman turned; Vogel was approaching. 

"I wanted to see about that cribbing bill. How much of it's coming down byboat?"

"Two hundred thousand. You'd better help Peterson get that timber out ofthe way. We're holding the men. "

"Yes, I've been waiting for directions about that. We can put a big gangon it, and snake it across in no time. "

"You'll have to open up the fence in half a dozen places, and put on everyman you've got. There's no use in making an all-night job of it. "

"I'm afraid we'll have trouble with the railroad. "

"No, we won't. If they kick, you send them to me. Are your arc lights in?"

"Yes, all but one or two. They were going to finish it today, but theyain't very spry about it. "

"Tell you what you do, Max; you call them up and tell them we want a manto come out here and stay for a while. I may want to move the lightsaround a little. And, anyhow, they may as well clean up their job and haveit done with. "

He was starting back after the returning laborers when Max said:--. 

"Mr. Bannon. "

"Hello?"

"I heard you speaking about a stenographer the other day. "

"Yes--what about it? Haven't you got one yet?"

"No, but I know of one that could do the work first-rate. "

"I want a good one--he's got to keep time besides doing the office work. "

"Yes, I thought of that. I don't suppose she--"

"She? We can't have any shes on this job. "

"Well, it's like this, Mr. Bannon; she's an A 1 stenographer andbookkeeper; and as for keeping the time, why, I'm out on the job all dayanyhow, and I reckon I could take care of it without cutting into mywork. "

Bannon looked quizzically down at him. 

"You don't know what you're talking about, " he said slowly. "Just lookaround at this gang of men--you know the likes of them as well as I do--and then talk to me about bringing a girl on the job. " He shook his head. "I reckon it's some one you're interested in. "

"Yes, " said Max, "it's my sister. "

Max evidently did not intend to be turned off. As he stood awaiting areply--his broad, flat features, his long arms and bow legs with theirhuge hands and feet, his fringe of brick-red hair cropping out behind hiscap, each contributing to the general appearance of utter homeliness--afaint smile came over Bannon's face. The half-formed thought was in hismind, "If she looks anything like that, I guess she's safe. " He was silentfor a moment, then he said abruptly:--

"When can she start?"

"Right away. "

"All right. We'll try it for a day or so and see how it goes. Tell thatboy in the office that he can charge his time up to Saturday night, but heneedn't stay around any longer. "

Max hurried away. Group after group of laborers, peavies or cant-hooks onshoulders, were moving slowly past him toward the wharf. It was alreadynearly dark, and the arc lights on the elevator structure, and on thespouting house, beyond the tracks, were flaring. He started toward thewharf, walking behind a score of the laborers. 

From the east, over the flats and marshes through which the narrow, sluggish river wanders to Lake Michigan, came the hoarse whistle of asteamer. Bannon turned and looked. His view was blocked by some freightcars that were standing on the C. & S. C. Tracks at some distance to theeast. He ran across the tracks and out on the wharf, climbing on thetimber pile, where Peterson and his gang were, rolling down the big stickswith cant-hooks. Not a quarter of a mile away was a big steamer, ploughingslowly up the river; the cough of her engines and the swash of thechurning water at her bow and stern could be plainly heard. Petersonstopped work for a moment, and joined him. 

"Well, " Bannon said, "we're in for it now. I never thought they'd makesuch time as this. "

"She can lay up here all night till morning, I guess. "

Bannon was thinking hard. 

"No, " he finally said, "she can't. There ain't any use of wasting all daytomorrow unloading that cribbing and getting it across. "

Peterson, too, was thinking; and his eyebrows were coming together in apuzzled scowl. 

"Oh, " he said, "you mean to do it tonight?"

"Yes, sir. We don't get any sleep till every piece of that cribbing isover at the annex, ready for business in the morning. Your sills arelaid--there's nothing in the way of starting those bins right up. Thisain't an all-night job if we hustle it. "

The steamer was a big lake barge, with high bow and stern, and a long, low, cargo deck amidships that was piled squarely and high with yellowtwo-inch plank. Her crew had clearly been impressed with the need ofhurry, for long before she could be worked into the wharf they had riggedthe two hoists and got the donkey engines into running order. The captainstood by the rail on the bridge, smoking a cigar, his hand on thebell-pull. 

"Where do you want it?" he called to Bannon. 

"Right here, where I'm standing. You can swing your bow in just below thebridge there. "

The captain pulled the bell, and the snub-nosed craft, stirring up a whirlof mud from the bottom of the river, was brought alongside the wharf. 

"Where are you going to put it?" the captain called. 

"Here. We'll clean this up as fast as we can. I want that cribbing allunloaded tonight, sure. "

"That suits me, " said the captain. "I don't want to be held up here--oughtto pull out the first thing in the morning. "

"All right, you can do it. " Bannon turned to Peterson and Vogel (who hadjust reached the wharf). "You want to rush this, boys. I'll go over andsee to the piling. "

He hurried away, pausing at the office long enough to find the man sent bythe electric light company, and to set him at work. The arc lamps had beenplaced, for the most part, where they would best illuminate the annex andthe cupola of the elevator, and there was none too much light on thetracks, where the men were stumbling along, hindered rather than helped bythe bright light before them. On the wharf it was less dark, for thelights of the steamer were aided by two on the spouting house. Beforeseven o'clock Bannon had succeeded in getting two more lights up on poles, one on each side of the track. 

It was just at seven that the timbers suddenly stopped coming in. Bannonlooked around impatiently. The six men that had brought in the last stickwere disappearing around the corner of the great, shadowy structure thatshut off Bannon's view of the wharf. He waited for a moment, but no moregangs appeared, and then he ran around the elevator over the path the menhad already trampled. Within the circle of light between him and the C. &S. C. Tracks stood scattered groups of the laborers, and others wanderedabout with their hooks over their shoulders. There was a larger, lessdistinct crowd out on the tracks. Bannon ran through an opening in thefence, and pushed into the largest group. Here Peterson and Vogel weretalking to a stupid-looking man with a sandy mustache. 

"What does this mean, Pete?" he said shortly. "We can't be held up thisway. Get your men back on the work. "

"No, he won't, " said the third man. "You can't go on with this work. "

Bannon sharply looked the man over. There was in his manner a doggedauthority. 

"Who are you?" Bannon asked. "Who do you represent?"

"I represent the C. & S. C. Railroad, and I tell you this work stops righthere. "

"Why?"

The man waved his arm toward the fence. 

"You can't do that sort of business. "

"What sort?"

"You look at that fence and then talk to me about what sort. "

"What's the matter with the fence?"

"What's the matter with it! There ain't more'n a rod of it left, that'swhat. "

Bannon's scowl relaxed. 

"Oh, " he said, "I see. You're the section boss, ain't you?"

"Yes. "

"That's all right then. Come over here and I'll show you how we've gotthings fixed. "

He walked across the track, followed by the section boss and Pete, andpointed out the displaced sections of the fence, each of which had beencarefully placed at one side. 

"We'll have it all up all right before morning, " he said. 

The man was running his fingers up under his cap. 

"I don't know anything about that, " he replied sullenly. "I've got myorders. We didn't make any kick when you opened up in one place, but wecan't stand for all this. "

He was not speaking firmly, and Bannon, watching him closely, jumped atthe conclusion that his orders were not very definite. Probably hissuperintendent had instructed him to keep a close eye on the work, andperhaps to grant no privileges. Bannon wished he knew more about theunderstanding between the railroad and MacBride & Company. He felt sure, however, that an understanding did exist or he would not have been told togo ahead. 

"That's all right, " he said, with an air of easy authority. "We've got tobe working over your tracks for the next two months. It's as much to ourinterest as it is to yours to be careful, and I guess we can pulltogether. We've got an agreement with your general manager, and that'swhat goes. " He turned away, but paused and added, "I'll see that you don'thave any reason to complain. "

The section boss looked about with an uncertain air at the crowd ofwaiting men. 

"Don't go too fast there--" he began. 

"Look here, " said Bannon, abruptly. "We'll sit right down here and send amessage to the general manager. That's the quickest way to settle it--tellhim that we're carrying out timber across the tracks and you've stoppedus. "

It was a bluff, but Bannon knew his man. 

"Now, how about this?" was the reply. "How long will it take you?"

"Till some time before daylight. " Bannon was feeling for his pencil. 

"You see that the fence goes back, will you? We ain't taking any chances, you understand. "

Bannon nodded. 

"All right, Max, " he shouted. "Get to work there. And look here, Max, " ina stern voice, "I expect you to see that the road is not blocked ordelayed in any way. That's your business now, mind. " He turned to the bossas the men hurried past to the wharf. "I used to be a railroad manmyself--chief wrecker on the Grand Trunk--and I guess we won't have anytrouble understanding each other. "

Again the six long lines of men were creeping from the brightly lightedwharf across the shadowy tracks and around the end of the elevator. Bannonhad held the electric light man within call, and now set him at workmoving two other arc lamps to a position where they made the ground aboutthe growing piles of timber nearly as light as day. Through the night airhe could hear the thumping of the planks on the wharf. Faintly over thissound came the shouting of men and the tramp and shuffle of feet. And atintervals a train would rumble in the distance, slowly coming nearer, until with a roar that swallowed all the other noises it was past. The arclamps glowed and buzzed over the heads of the sweating, grunting men, asthey came along the path, gang after gang, lifting an end of a heavy stickto the level of the steadily rising pile, and sliding it home. 

Bannon knew from long experience how to pile the different sizes so thateach would be ready at the hands of the carpenters when the morningwhistle should blow. He was all about the work, giving a hand here, anorder there, always good-humored, though brusque, and always inspiring themen with the sight of his own activity. 

Toward the middle of the evening Vogel came up from the wharf with aquestion. As he was about to return, Bannon, who had been turning over inhis mind the incident of the section boss, said:--

"Wait a minute, Max. What about this railroad business--have they botheredyou much before now?"

"Not very much, only in little ways. I guess it's just this section bossthat does it on his own hook. He's a sort of a fool, you know, and he'sgot it into his head that we're trying to do him some way. "

Bannon put his hands into his pockets, and studied the checkered patternin the ground shadow of the nearest arc lamp. Then he slowly shook hishead. 

"No, " he said, "that ain't it. He's too big a fool to do much on his ownhook. He's acting on orders of some sort, and that's just what I don'tunderstand. As a general thing a railroad's mighty white to an elevator. Come to think of it, they said something about it up at the office, "--hewas apparently speaking to himself, and Max quietly waited, --"Brown saidsomething about the C. & S. C. Having got in the way a little down here, but I didn't think much about it at the time. "

"What could they do?" Max asked. 

"A lot, if they wanted to. But that ain't what's bothering me. Theyhaven't any connection with the G. &M. , have they?"

"No"--Max shook his head--"no, not that I know of. "

"Well, it's funny, that's all. The man behind those orders that thesection boss talks about is the general manager; and it's my notion thatwe're likely to hear from him again. I'll tell you what it is. Somebody--Idon't know who, but somebody--is mighty eager to keep this house frombeing finished by the first of January. After this I wish you'd keep youreyes open for this section boss. Have you had any trouble with the men?"

"No, only that clerk that we laid off today, he 'lowed he was going tomake trouble. I didn't say anything about it, because they always talklike that. "

"Yes, I know. What's his name?"

"Briggs. "

"I guess he can't hurt us any. "

Bannon turned back to his work; and Vogel disappeared in the shadows alongthe path. 

Nine o'clock came, and the timber was still coming in. The men weregrowing tired and surly from the merciless strain of carrying the long, heavy sticks. The night was raw and chill. Bannon felt it as he stooddirecting the work, and he kept his hands in his pockets, and wished hehad worn his overcoat; but the laborers, barearmed and bareheaded, cladonly in overalls or in thin trousers and cotton shirts, were shaking sweatfrom their eyes, and stealing moments between trips to stand where thekeen lake breeze could cool them. Another half-hour or so should see thelast stick on the piles, and Bannon had about decided to go over to theoffice when he saw Vogel moving among the men, marking their time in hisbook. 

"Here, Max, " he called, adding, when Vogel had reached his side: "Justkeep an eye on this, will you? I'll be at the office. Keep things goingjust as they are. "

There was a light in the office. Bannon stepped into the doorway, and, with a suppressed word of impatience, stood looking at the scene within. The desk that Peterson had supplied for the use of his clerk wasbreast-high from the floor, built against the wall, with a high stoolbefore it. The wall lamp had been taken down; now it stood with itsreflector on the top of the desk, which was covered with books and papers. A girl was sitting on the stool, bending over a ledger and rapidly footingup columns. Bannon could not see her face, for a young fellow stoodleaning over the railing by the desk, his back to the door. He had justsaid something, and now he was laughing in a conscious manner. 

Bannon quietly stepped to one side. The girl looked up for a moment andbrushed her hair back from her face. The fellow spoke again in a low tone, but beyond a slight compressing of her lips she did not seem to hear him. Without a word, Bannon came forward, took him by the arm, and led him outof the door. Still holding his arm, he took a step back, and (they stoodin the outer circle of the electric light) looked him over. 

"Let's see, " he said, "you're the man that was clerking here. "

There was no reply. "And your name's--what?"

"Briggs. "

"Well, Mr. Briggs, did you get a message from me?"

"I don't know what you mean, " said the young man, his eyes on the ground. "Max, he come around, but I wanted to wait and see you. He's a meancuss--"

"You see me now, don't you?"

"Yes. " The reply was indistinct. 

"You keep out of the office after this. If I catch you in there again, Iwon't stop to talk. Now, clear out. "

Briggs walked a little way, then turned. "Maybe you think you can lay meoff without notice--but you'll wish--"

Bannon turned back to the office, giving no heed to Briggs' last words:"I've got you fixed already. " He was thinking of the girl there on thestool. She did not look like the girl he had expected to see. To be sureher hair was red, but it was not of the red that outcropped from Max's bighead; it was of a dark, rich color, and it had caught the light from thelamp with such a shine as there is in new red gold. When he entered, shewas again footing columns. She was slender, and her hand, where itsupported her forehead was white. Again Bannon stood motionless, slowlyshaking his head. Then he came forward. She heard his step and looked up, as if to answer a question, letting her eyes rest on his face. Hehesitated, and she quietly asked:--

"What is it, please?"

"Miss Vogel?"

"Yes. "

"I'm Mr. Bannon. There wasn't any need of your working tonight. I'm justkeeping the men on so we can get in this cribbing. When did you come?"

"My brother telephoned to me. I wanted to look things over before startingin tomorrow. "

"How do you find it?"

She hesitated, glancing over the jumble of papers on the desk. 

"It hasn't been kept up very well, " she presently said. "But it won't behard, I think, to straighten it out. "

Bannon leaned on the rail and glanced at the paper on which she had beensetting down totals. 

"I guess you'd better go home, Miss Vogel. It's after nine o'clock. "

"I can finish in an hour. "

"You'd better go. There'll be chances enough for night work without yourmaking them. "

She smiled, cleared up the desk, and reached for her jacket, which hungfrom the nail behind her. Then she paused. 

"I thought I would wait for my brother, Mr. Bannon. "

"That's all right. I guess we can spare him. I'll speak to him. Do youlive far?"

"No; Max and I are boarding at the same place. "

He had got to the door when she asked:--

"Shall I put out the light?"

He turned and nodded. She was drawing on her gloves. She perhaps was not avery pretty girl, but there was something in her manner, as she stoodthere in the dim light, her hair straying out from beneath her white"sombrero" hat, that for the moment took Bannon far away from thisenvironment of railroad tracks and lumber piles. He waited till she cameout, then he locked the door. 

"I'll walk along with you myself, if you don't mind, " he said. And afterthey had crossed the Belt Line tracks, and he had helped her, with alittle laugh from each of them, to pick her way over the switches andbetween the freight cars, he said: "You don't look much like yourbrother. "

It was not a long walk to the boarding house but before they had reachedit Bannon was nervous. It was not a custom with him to leave his work onsuch an errand. He bade her a brusque good-night, and hurried back, pausing only after he had crossed the tracks, to cast his eye over thetimber. There was no sign of activity, though the two arc lamps were stillin place. "All in, eh, " he said. 

He followed the path beside the elevator and on around the end, and then, with an exclamation, he hurried forward; for there was the same idle crowdabout the tracks that had been there during the trouble with the sectionboss--the same buzz of talk, and the idle laughter and shouting. As heran, his foot struck a timber-end, and he sprawled forward for nearly arod before recovering his balance; then he stopped and looked along theground. 

A long line of timbers lay end to end, the timber hooks across them ornear by on the ground, where they had been dropped by the laborers. Onalong the path, through the fence openings, and out on the tracks, lay thelines of timber. Here and there Bannon passed gangs of men lounging on theground, waiting for the order to move on. As he passed through the fence, walking on the timbers, and hurried through the crowd, which had beenpushed back close to the fence, he heard a low laugh that came along likea wave from man to man. In a moment he was in front of them all. 

The middle tracks were clear, excepting a group of three or four men, whostood a little to one side. Bannon could not make them out. Another crowdof laborers was pressed back against the opposite fence. These had movedapart at one of the fence openings, and as Bannon looked, two men camethrough, stumbling and staggering under a long ten-by-twelve timber, whichthey were carrying on their shoulders. Bannon looked sharply; the first, abig, deep-chested man, bare-headed and in his shirt sleeves, was Peterson. 

Bannon started forward, when Max, who had been hurrying over to him, touched his arm. 

"What's all this, Max?"

"I'm glad you've come. It's Grady, the walking delegate--that's him overthere where those men are standing, the little fellow with his hat on oneside--he's been here for ten minutes. "

"Speak quick. What's the trouble?"

"First he wanted to know how much we were paying the men for night work, and I told him. Thought I might as well be civil to him. Then he said we'dgot to take Briggs back, and I told him Briggs wasn't a union man, and hehadn't anything to say about it. He and Briggs seemed to know each other. Finally he came out here on the job and said we were working the men toohard--said we'd have to put ten men on the heavy sticks and eight on theothers. I was going to do it, but Peterson came up and said he wouldn't doit, and Grady called the men off, just where they were. He wouldn't let'em lift a finger. You see there's timber all over the tracks. Then Petegot mad, and said him and Donnelly could bring a twenty-foot stick overalone, and it was all rot about putting on more men. Here they come--justlook at Pete's arms! He could lift a house. "

Some of the men were laughing, others growling, but all had their eyesfixed on Peterson and Donnelly as they came across the tracks, slowlypicking their way, and shifting the weight a little, at every few seconds, on their shoulders. Bannon was glancing swiftly about, taking in thesituation. He would not imperil his discipline by reproving Petersonbefore the men, so he stood for a moment, thinking, until the task shouldbe accomplished. 

"It's Briggs that did the whole business, " Max was saying. "He brought thedelegate around--he was blowing about it among the men when I found him. "

"Is he on the job now?" Bannon asked. 

"No, and I don't think he'll be around again very soon. There were someloafers with him, and they took him away. "

Peterson and Donnelly had disappeared through the fence, and a few of thecrowd were following, to see them get the timber clear around the buildingto the pile. 

"Have you sent out flagmen, Max?" Bannon asked. 

"No, I didn't. "

"Get at it quick--send a man each way with a lantern--put something redover them, their shirts if necessary. "

"None of the men will dare do it while the delegate's here. "

"Find some one--take one side yourself, if you have to. "

Max hurried away for the lanterns, Bannon walked out to the group of menon the middle tracks. 

"Where's Mr. Grady?" he said. 

One of the men pointed, but the delegate gave no attention. 

"You're Mr. Grady, are you?" said Bannon. "I'm Mr. Bannon, of MacBride &Company. What's the trouble here?"

The delegate was revelling in his authority: his manner was not what itwas to be when he should know Bannon better. He waved his hand toward thewharf. 

"You ought to know better than that, " he said curtly. 

"Than what?"

"Than what?--than running a job the way this is run. "

"I think I can run this job, " said Bannon, quietly. "You haven't told mewhat's the trouble yet. "

"It's right here--you're trying to make money by putting on one man to dothe work of two. "

"How?"

Bannon's quiet manner exasperated the delegate. 

"Use your eyes, man--you can't make eight men carry a twelve-by-fourteenstick. "

"How many shall I put on?"

"Ten. "

"All right. "

"And you'd better put eight men on the other sticks. "

The delegate looked up, nettled that Bannon should yield so easily. 

"That's all right, " said Bannon. "We aren't fighting the union. Afterthis, if you've got anything to say, I wish you'd come to me with itbefore you call off the men. Is there anything else before I start up?"

Grady was chewing the stub of a cigar. He stood looking about with an uglyair, then he said:--

"You ain't starting up just yet. "

"Why not?"

The delegate's reply was lost in the shout that suddenly went up from thewestern end of the line of laborers. Then came the sound of a locomotivebell and exhaust. Bannon started down the track, jumping the timbers as heran, toward Vogel's lantern, that was bobbing along toward him. The trainhad stopped, but now it was puffing slowly forward, throwing a brightlight along the rails. 

"It's a C. & S. C. Local, " Max shouted. "Can't we clear up the righttrack?"

Bannon stopped and looked around. About half of the men had followed him, and were strung out in irregular groups between him and the timbers. Walking up between the groups came the delegate, with two men, chewing hiscigar in silence as he walked. The train was creeping along, the firemanleaning far out of the cab window, closely scanning the track for signs ofan obstruction. On the steps between the cars a few passengers were tryingto get a view up the track; and others were running along beside thetrain. 

"This has gone too far, " Bannon muttered. He turned and shouted to themen: "Clear up that track. Quick, now!"

Some of the men started, but stopped, and all looked at the delegate. Hestepped to one side and coolly looked over the train; then he raised hishand. 

"Don't touch the timbers, " he said. "It ain't a mail train. "

His voice was not loud, but those near at hand passed the word along, andthe long line of men stood motionless. By that time the train had stopped, and three of the crew had come forward. They saw the timbers on the trackand hurried toward them, but the delegate called out:--

"Watch those sticks, boys! Don't let a man touch them!"

There was no hesitation when the delegate spoke in that tone. A score ofmen blocked the way of the train crew. 

Bannon was angry. He stood looking at Grady with snapping eyes, and hishands closed into knotted fists. But Bannon knew the power of the unions, and he knew that a rash step now might destroy all hope of completing theelevator in time. He crossed over to the delegate. 

"What do you want?" he said gruffly. 

"Nothing from you. "

"What do you want?" Bannon repeated, and there was something in his voicethat caused the delegate to check a second retort. 

"You'll kill these men if you work them like this. They've been on the joball day. "

Bannon was beginning to see that Grady was more eager to make trouble thanto uphold the cause of the men he was supposed to represent. In hisexperience with walking delegates he had not met this type before. He wasproud of the fact that he had never had any serious trouble in dealingwith his workmen or their representatives. Mr. MacBride was fond of sayingthat Bannon's tact in handling men was unequalled; but Bannon himself didnot think of it in this way--to him, trouble with the laborers or thecarpenters or the millwrights meant loss of time and loss of money, thetwo things he was putting in his time to avoid; and until now he had foundthe maligned walking delegate a fair man when he was fairly dealt with. Sohe said:--

"Well, what are you asking?"

"These gangs ought to be relieved every two hours. "

"I'll do it. Now clear up those timbers. "

The delegate turned with a scowl, and waved the men back to their work. Ina moment the track was clear, and the train was moving slowly onwardbetween the long lines of men. 

Bannon started the gangs at work. When the timbers were again comingacross from the wharf in six slowly moving streams that converged at theend of the elevator, he stood looking after the triangle of red lights onthe last car of the train until they had grown small and close together inthe distance. Then he went over to the wharf to see how much timberremained, and to tell Peterson to hurry the work; for he did not look forany further accommodation on the part of the C. & S. C. Railroad, now thata train had been stopped. The steamer lay quietly at the dock, the longpile of cribbing on her deck shadowed by the high bow deckhouse from thelights on the spouting house. Her crew were bustling about, rigging thetwo hoisting engines, and making all ready for unloading when the ordershould be given. 

Peterson had been working through the timber pile from the shore side, sothat now only a thin wall remained at the outer edge of the wharf. Bannonfound him standing on the pile, rolling down the sticks with a peavey towhere the carrying gangs could pick them up. "Better bring all your men uphere, Pete, and clean it all away by the steamer. She may as well beginunloading now. "

Bannon walked back to the tracks, in time to see a handcar and trailer, packed with men, come up the track and stop near at hand. The men at oncescattered, and brushing aside Bannon's laborers, they began replacing thesections of fence. Bannon crossed to the section boss, who recognized himand without comment handed him a telegraphed order. 

"There's no getting around that, " he said, when Bannon had read it. "That's straight from the old man. "

Bannon returned it, called Peterson, and hurried with him around theelevator to find Max, who was overseeing the piling. 

"What'll we do?" Peterson asked, as they ran; but Bannon made no replyuntil the three were together. Then he said, speaking shortly:--

"Get the wire cable off one of your hoisting engines, Pete, and make oneend fast as high as you can on the spouting house. We'll run it across thetracks, on a slope, down to this side. Max, you get a light rope and arunning block, and hang a hook on it. "

"I see, " said Max, eagerly. "You're going to run it over on a trolley. "

"Yes. The engineers have gone, haven't they?"

"Went at five, " said Peterson. 

"That's all right. We'll only need the hoist at the spouting house. Therest of it's just plain sliding down hill. "

"But who'll run it?"

"I will. Pete, you get up on the spouting house and see that they'restarted down. Max will stay over here and watch the piling. Now rush it. "

Half an hour had gone before the cable could be stretched from thespouting house, high over the tracks, down to the elevator structure, andbefore the hoisting engine could be got under steam. Meanwhile, for thethird time since five o'clock, the laborers stood about, grumbling andgrowing more impatient. But at last it was all under way. The timbers werehoisted lightly up the side of the spouting house, hooked to thetravelling block, and sent whirling down to Max's waiting hands, to besnatched away and piled by the men. But compared with the other method, itwas slow work, and Bannon found that, for lack of employment, it wasnecessary to let half of the men go for the night. 

Soon, to the rattle of blocks and the tramping of feet and the calling andshouting of men, was added the creak of the steamer's hoists, and thegroan of her donkey engines as her crew began the work of dumping out thecribbing by hand and steam, on the cleared space on the wharf. And then, when the last big stick had gone over, Peterson began sending bundles oftwo-inch cribbing. Before the work was finished, and the last plank fromthe steamer's cargo had been tossed on the pile by the annex, the firstfaint color was spreading over the eastern sky, and the damp of alow-country morning was in the air. 

Bannon stopped the engine and drew the fire; Peterson and his crewclambered to the ground, and Max put on his coat and waited for the twoforemen to come across the tracks. When they joined him, Bannon lookedsharply at him in the growing light. 

"Hello, Max, " he said; "where did you get that black eye?"

"That ain't much, " Max replied. "You ought to see Briggs. "

CHAPTER VI

When Bannon came on the job on Friday morning at seven o'clock, a group ofheavy-eyed men were falling into line at the timekeeper's window. Max wasin the office, passing out the checks. His sister was continuing her workof the night before, going over what books and papers were to be found inthe desk. Bannon hung up his overcoat and looked through the doorway atthe square mass of the elevator that stood out against the sky like somegigantic, unroofed barn. The walls rose nearly eighty feet from theground--though the length and breadth of the structure made them appearlower--so close to the tops of the posts that were to support the cupolaframe that Bannon's eyes spoke of satisfaction. He meant to hide thoseposts behind the rising walls of cribbing before the day should be gone. 

He glanced about at the piles of two-inch plank that hid the annexfoundation work. There it lay, two hundred thousand feet of it--not verymuch, to be sure, but enough to keep the men busy for the present, andenough, too, to give a start to the annex bins and walls. 

Peterson was approaching from the tool house, and Bannon called. 

"How many laborers have you got, Pete?"

"Hardly any. Max, there, can tell. " Max, who had just passed out his lastcheck, now joined them at the doorstep. 

"There's just sixty two that came for checks, " he said, "not counting thecarpenters. "

"About what I expected, " Bannon replied. "This night business lays themout. " He put his head in at the door. "You'd better give checks to any newmen that we send to the window, Miss Vogel; but keep the names of the oldmen, and if they show up in the morning, take them back on the job. Now, boys"--to Peterson and Max--"pick up the men you see hanging around andsend them over. I'll be at the office for a while. We'll push the cribbingon the main house and start right in on the annex bins. There ain't muchtime to throw around if we're going to eat our Christmas dinner. "

The two went at once. The hoisting engines were impatiently blowing offsteam. New men were appearing every moment, delaying only to answer a fewbrisk questions and to give their names to Miss Vogel, and then hurryingaway to the tool house, each with his brass check fastened to his coat. When Bannon was at last ready to enter the office, he paused again to lookover the ground. The engines were now puffing steadily, and the rapping ofmany hammers came through the crisp air. Gangs of laborers were swarmingover the lumber piles, pitching down the planks, and other gangs werecarrying them away and piling them on "dollies, " to be pushed along theplank runways to the hoist. There was a black fringe of heads between theposts on the top of the elevator, where the carpenters were spiking downthe last planks of the walls and bins. 

Miss Vogel was at work on the ledger when Bannon entered the office. Hepushed his hat back on his head and came up beside her. 

"How's it coming out?" he asked. "Do we know how much we're good for?"

She looked up, smiling. 

"I think so. I'm nearly through. It's a little mixed in some places, but Ithink everything has been entered. "

"Can you drop it long enough to take a letter or so?"

"Oh, yes. " She reached for her notebook, saying, with a nod toward thetable: "The mail is here. "

Bannon went rapidly through the heap of letters and bills. 

"There's nothing much, " he said. "You needn't wait for me to open it afterthis. You'll want to read everything to keep posted. These bills forcribbing go to your brother, you know. " There was one chair within theenclosure; he brought it forward and sat down, tipping back against therailing. "Well, I guess we may as well go ahead and tell the firm thatwe're still moving around and drawing our salaries. To MacBride & Company, Minneapolis, Gentlemen: Cribbing is now going up on elevator and annex. Alittle over two feet remains to be done on the elevator beneath thedistributing floor. The timber is ready for framing the cupola. Twohundred thousand feet of the Ledyard cribbing reached here by steamer lastnight, and the balance will be down in a few days. Very truly yours, MacBride & Company. That will do for them. Now, we'll write to Mr. Brown--no, you needn't bother, though; I'll do that one myself. You might run offthe other and I'll sign it. " He got up and moved his chair to the table. "I don't generally seem able to say just what I want to Brown unless Iwrite it out. " His letter ran:--

DEAR MR. BROWN: We've finally got things going. Had to stir them up alittle at Ledyard. Can you tell me who it is that's got hold of our coattails on this job? There's somebody trying to hold us back, all right. Hada little fuss with a red-headed walking delegate last night, but fixedhim. That hat hasn't come yet. Shall I call up the express company and seewhat's the matter? 7 1/4 is my size. 

Yours, BANNON. 

He had folded the letter and addressed the envelope, when he paused andlooked around. The typewritten letter to MacBride & Company lay at hiselbow. He signed it before he spoke. 

"Miss Vogel, have you come across any letters or papers about an agreementwith the C. & S. C?"

"No, " she replied, "there is nothing here about the railroad. "

Bannon drummed on the table; then he went to the door and called to alaborer who was leaving the tool house:--

"Find Mr. Peterson and ask him if he will please come to the office for amoment. "

He came slowly back and sat on the corner of the table, watching MissVogel as her pencil moved rapidly up column after column. 

"Had quite a time up there in Michigan, " he said. "Those G. &M. People wereafter us in earnest. If they'd had their way, we'd never have got thecribbing. "

She looked up. 

"You see, they had told Sloan--he's the man that owns the lumber companyand the city of Ledyard and pretty much all of the Lower Peninsula--thatthey hadn't any cars; and he'd just swallowed it down and folded up hisnapkin. I hadn't got to Ledyard before I saw a string of empties on asiding that weren't doing a thing but waiting for our cribbing, so Icaught a train to Blake City and gave the Division Superintendent somepoints on running railroads. He was a nice, friendly man. "--Bannon claspedhis hands about one knee and smiled reminiscently--"I had him pretty busythere for a while thinking up lies. He was wondering how he could getready for the next caller, when I came at him and made him wire theGeneral Manager of the line. The operator was sitting right outside thedoor, and when the answer came I just took it in--it gave the whole snapaway, clear as you want. "

Miss Vogel turned on her stool. 

"You took his message?"

"I should say I did. It takes a pretty lively man to crowd me off the endof a wire. He told the superintendent not to give us cars. That was all Iwanted to know. So I told him how sorry I was that I couldn't stay tolunch, caught the next train back to Ledyard, and built a fire underSloan. "

Miss Vogel was looking out of the window. 

"He said he could not give us cars?" she repeated. 

Bannon smiled. 

"But we didn't need them, " he said. "I got a barge to come over fromMilwaukee, and we loaded her up and started her down. "

"I don't understand, Mr. Bannon. Ledyard isn't on the lake--and youcouldn't get cars. "

"That wasn't very hard. " He paused, for a step sounded outside the doorand in a moment Peterson had come in. 

"I guess you wanted to talk to me, didn't you, Charlie?"

"Yes, I'm writing to the office. It's about this C. & S. C. Business. Yousaid you'd had trouble with them before. "

"Oh, no, " said Peterson, sitting on the railing and removing his hat, witha side glance at Miss Vogel, "not to speak of. There wasn't nothing so badas last night. "

"What was it?"

"Why, just a little talk when we opened the fence first time. That sectionboss was around, but I told him how things was, and he didn't seem to haveno kick coming as long as we was careful. "

Bannon had taken up his letter to Brown, and was slowly unfolding it andlooking it over. When Peterson got to his feet, he laid it on the table. 

"Anything else, Charlie? I'm just getting things to going on the annex. We're going to make her jump, I tell you. I ain't allowing any loafingthere. "

"No, " Bannon replied, "I guess not. " He followed the foreman out of doors. "Do you remember having any letters, Pete, about our agreement with the C. & S. C. To build over the tracks--from the office or anybody?"

Peterson brought his brows together and tried to remember. After a momenthe slowly shook his head. 

"Nothing, eh?" said Bannon. 

"Not that I can think of. Something may have come in while Max was here inthe office--"

"I wish you'd ask him. "

"All right. He'll be around my way before long, taking the time. "

"And say, " Bannon added, with one foot on the doorstep, "you haven't seenanything more of that man Briggs, have you?"

Peterson shook his head. 

"If you see him hanging around, you may as well throw him right off thejob. "

Peterson grinned. 

"I guess he won't show up very fast. Max did him up good last night, whenhe was blowing off about bringing the delegate around. "

Bannon had drawn the door to after him when he came out. He was turningback, with a hand on the knob, when Peterson, who was lingering, said in alow voice, getting out the words awkwardly:--

"Say, Charlie, she's all right, ain't she. "

Bannon did not reply, and Peterson jerked his thumb toward the office. 

"Max's sister, there. I never saw any red hair before that was up to themark. Ain't she a little uppish, though, don't you think?"

"I guess not. "

"Red-haired girls generally is. They've got tempers, too, most of them. It's funny about her looks. She don't look any more like Max thananything. " He grinned again. "Lord, Max is a peach, though, ain't he. "

Bannon nodded and reentered the office. He sat down and added a postscriptto his letter:

The C. & S. C. People are trying to make it warm for us about workingacross their tracks. Can't we have an understanding with them before weget ready to put up the belt gallery? If we don't, we'll have to build asuspension bridge. C. B. 

He sealed the envelope and tossed it to one side. 

"Miss Vogel, " he said, pushing his chair back, "didn't you ask mesomething just now?"

"It was about getting the cribbing across the lake, " she replied. "I don'tsee how you did it. "

Her interest in the work pleased Bannon. 

"It ain't a bad story. You see the farmers up in that country hate therailroads. It's the tariff rebate, you know. They have to pay more to shiptheir stuff to market than some places a thousand miles farther off. And Iguess the service is pretty bad all around. I was figuring on somethinglike that as soon as I had a look at things. So we got up a poster and hadit printed, telling what they all think of the G. &M. "--he paused, and hiseyes twinkled--"I wouldn't mind handing one to that Superintendent justfor the fun of seeing him when he read it. It told the farmers to comearound to Sloan's lumber yard with their wagons. "

"And you carried it across in the wagons?"

"I guess we did. "

"Isn't it a good ways?"

"Eighteen to thirty miles, according to who you ask. As soon as things gotto going we went after the General Manager and gave him a bad half hour;so I shouldn't be surprised to see the rest of the bill coming in by railany time now. "

Bannon got up and slowly buttoned his coat. He was looking about theoffice, at the mud-tracked floor and the coated windows, and at thehanging shreds of spider web in the corners and between the raftersoverhead. 

"It ain't a very cheerful house to live in all day, is it?" he said. "Idon't know but what we'd better clean house a little. There's not muchdanger of putting a shine on things that'll hurt your eyes. We ought to beable to get hold of some one that could come in once in a while and stirup the dust. Do you know of any one?"

"There is a woman that comes to our boarding-house. I think they knowabout her at the hotel. "

He went to the telephone and called up the hotel. 

"She'll be here this afternoon, " he said as he hung up the receiver. "Willshe bring her own scrubbing things, or are we supposed to have them forher? This is some out of my line. "

Miss Vogel was smiling. 

"She'll have her own things, I guess. When she comes, would you like me tostart her to work?"

"If you'd just as soon. And tell her to make a good job of it. I've got togo out now, but I'll be around off and on during the day. "

When the noon whistle blew Bannon and Max were standing near the annex. Already the bins and walls had been raised more than a foot above thefoundation, which gave it the appearance of a great checker-board. 

"Looks like business, doesn't it, " said Max. He was a little excited, fornow there was to be no more delaying until the elevator should standcompleted from the working floor to the top, one hundred and sixty feetabove the ground; until engines, conveyors, and scales should be workingsmoothly and every bin filled with grain. Indeed, nearly everybody on thejob had by this time caught the spirit of energy that Bannon had infusedinto the work. 

"I'll be glad when it gets up far enough to look like something, so we canfeel that things are really getting on. "

"They're getting on all right, " Bannon replied. 

"How soon will we be working on the cupola?"

"Tomorrow. "

"Tomorrow!" Max stopped (they had started toward the office) and looked atBannon in amazement. "Why, we can't do it, can we?"

"Why not?" Bannon pointed toward a cleared space behind the pile ofcribbing, where the carpenters had been at work on the heavy timbers, "They're all ready for the framing. "

Max made no reply, but he looked up as they passed the elevator andmeasured with his eyes the space remaining between the cribbing and thetops of the posts. He had yet to become accustomed to Bannon's methods;but he had seen enough of him to believe that it would be done if Bannonsaid so. 

They were halfway to the office when Max said, with a touch ofembarrassment:--

"How's Hilda going to take hold, Mr. Bannon?"

"First-class. "

Max's eyes sparkled. 

"She can do anything you give her. Her head's as clear as a bell. "

For the moment Bannon made no reply, but as they paused outside the officedoor he said:

"We'd better make a point of dropping in at the office now and then duringthe day. Any time you know I'm out on the job and you're up this way, justlook in. "

Max nodded. 

"And nights when we're working overtime, there won't be any trouble aboutyour getting off long enough to see your sister home. She won't need to doany night work. "

They entered the office. Miss Vogel was standing by the railing gate, buttoning her jacket and waiting for Max. Behind her, bending over theblue prints on the table, stood Peterson, apparently too absorbed to hearthe two men come in. Bannon gave him a curious glance, for no blue printswere needed in working on the annex, which was simply a matter of buildingbins up from the foundation. When Max and his sister had gone the foremanlooked around, and said, with a show of surprise:--

"Oh, hello, Charlie. Going up to the house?"

"Yes. "

Peterson's manner was not wholly natural. As they walked across the flatshis conversation was a little forced, and he laughed occasionally atcertain occurrences in the morning's work that were not particularlyamusing. 

Bannon did not get back to the office until a half hour after work hadcommenced for the afternoon. He carried a large bundle under one arm andin his hand a wooden box with a slot cut in the cover. He found thescrubwoman hard at work on the office floor. The chair and the unusedstool were on the table. He looked about with satisfaction. 

"It begins to look better already, " he said to Miss Vogel. "You know we'renot going to be able to keep it all clean; there'll be too many coming in. But there's going to be a law passed about tracking mud inside therailing. "

 He opened his bundle and unrolled a door mat, which he laid in front ofthe gate. 

Miss Vogel was smiling, but Bannon's face was serious. He cut a squarepiece from the wrapping paper, and sitting on the table, printed theplacard: "Wipe your feet! Or put five cents in the box. " Then he nailedboth box and placard to the railing, and stood back to look at his work. 

"That will do it, " he said. 

She nodded. "There's no danger that they won't see it. "

"We had a box down on the New Orleans job, " said Bannon, "only that wasfor swearing. Every time anybody swore he put in a nickel, and then whenSaturday came around we'd have ten or fifteen dollars to spend. "

"It didn't stop the swearing, then?"

"Oh, yes. Everybody was broke a day or so after pay day, and for a fewdays every week it was the best crowd you ever saw. But we won't spendthis money that way. I guess we'll let you decide what to do with it. "

Hour by hour the piles of cribbing dwindled, and on the elevator thedistance from bin walls to post-tops grew shorter. Before five o'clock thelast planks were spiked home on the walls and bins in the northwestcorner. A few hours' work in the morning would bring the rest of the houseto the same level, and then work could commence on the distributing floorand on the frame of the cupola. Before the middle of the afternoon he hadstarted two teams of horses dragging the cupola timbers, which had beencut ready for framing, to the foot of the hoist. By ten o'clock in themorning, Bannon figured, the engine would be lifting timbers instead ofbundles of cribbing. 

There was a chill wind, up there on the top of the elevator, coming acrossthe flats out of the glowing sunset. But Bannon let his coat flap open, ashe gave a hand now and then to help the men. He liked to feel the windtugging at sleeves and cap, and he leaned against it, bare-throated andbare-handed--bareheaded, too, he would have been had not a carpenter, rodsaway on the cribbing, put out a hand to catch his cap as it tried to whirlpast on a gust. The river wound away toward the lake, touched with thecolor of the sky, to lose itself half a mile away among the stragglingrows of factories and rolling mills. From the splendid crimson of thewestern sky to the broken horizon line of South Chicago, whose buildingshid Lake Michigan, the air was crisp and clear; but on the north, over thedim shops and blocks of houses that grew closer together as the eye wenton, until spires and towers and gray walls were massed in confusion, hunga veil of smoke, like a black cloud, spreading away farther than eye couldsee. This was Chicago. 

Bannon climbed to the ground and took a last look about the work beforegoing to the office. The annex was growing slowly but surely; andPeterson, coatless and hatless as usual, with sleeves rolled up, was atwork with the men, swinging a hammer here, impatiently shouldering abundle of planks there. And Bannon saw more clearly what he had knownbefore, that Peterson was a good man when kept within his limitations. Certainly the annex could not have been better started. 

When Bannon entered the office, Miss Vogel handed him a sheet of paper. Hecame in through the gate and stood at the desk beside her to have thelight of the lamp. It was a balance sheet, giving the results of herexamination of the books. 

 "All right, eh?" he said. A glance had been enough to show him thathereafter there would be no confusion in the books; the cashier of ametropolitan bank could not have issued a more businesslike statement. Hetossed it on the desk, saying, "You might file it. "

Then he took time to look about the office. It was as clean as blackened, splintered planks could be made; even the ceiling had been attacked andevery trace of cobweb removed. 

"Well, " he said, "this is business. And we'll keep it this way, too. "

She had faced about on the stool and was looking at him with a twinkle inher eye. 

"Yes, " she said, evidently trying not to laugh; "we'll try to. "

He was not looking at her as she spoke, but when, a moment later, thelaugh broke away from her, he turned. She was looking at his feet. Heglanced down and saw a row of black footprints leading from the door towhere he stood, one of them squarely in the centre of the new mat. Hegazed ruefully, then he reached into his pocket and drew out a quarter, dropping it in the box. 

"Well--" he said, wiping his feet; but the whistle just then gave a longblast, and he did not finish the sentence. 

After supper Bannon and Peterson sat in the room they occupied together. In the walk home and during supper there had been the same sullen mannerabout the younger man that Bannon had observed at noon. Half a day was along time for Peterson to keep to himself something that bothered him, andbefore the close of dinner he had begun working the talk around. Now, after a long silence, that Bannon filled with sharpening pencils, he said:

"Some people think a lot of themselves, don't they, Charlie?"

Bannon looked up from his pencils; he was sitting on the edge of the bed. 

"She seems to think she's better'n Max and you and me, and everybody. Ithought she looked pretty civil, and I didn't say a word she need to havegot stuck-up about. "

Bannon asked no questions. After waiting to give him an opportunity, Peterson went on:--

"There's going to be a picnic Sunday of the Iron Workers up atSharpshooters' Park. I know a fellow that has tickets. It'd be just asquiet as anywhere--and speeches, you know. I don't see that she's anybetter than a lot of the girls that'll be there. "

"Do you mean to say you asked her to go?" Bannon asked. 

"Yes, and she--"

Bannon had turned away to strop his razor on his hand, and Peterson, afterone or two attempts to begin the story, let the subject drop. 

CHAPTER VII

Bannon had the knack of commanding men. He knew the difference between anisolated--or better, perhaps, an insulated--man and the same man in acrowd. Without knowing how he did it, he could, nevertheless, distinguishbetween the signs of temporary ill feeling among the men and the perhapsless apparent danger signal that meant serious mischief. 

Since his first day on the job the attitude of the men had worried him alittle. There was something in the air he did not like. Peterson, accustomed to handling smaller bodies of men, had made the natural mistakeof driving the very large force employed on the elevator with much tooloose a rein. The men were still further demoralized by the episode withthe walking delegate, Grady, on Thursday night. Bannon knew too much toattempt halfway measures, so he waited for a case of insubordinationserious enough to call for severe treatment. 

When he happened into the office about the middle of Saturday morning, Miss Vogel handed him two letters addressed to him personally. One wasfrom Brown, --the last paragraph of it as follows:--

Young Page has told MacBride in so many words what we've all been guessingabout, that is, that they are fighting to break the corner in Decemberwheat. They have a tremendous short line on the Chicago Board, and theymean to deliver it. Twenty two hundred thousand has got to be in the binsthere at Calumet before the first of January unless the Day of Judgmenthappens along before then. Never mind what it costs you. BROWN. 

P. S. MacBride has got down an atlas and is trying to figure out how yougot that cribbing to the lake. I told him you put the barge on rollers andtowed it up to Ledyard with a traction engine. 

The letter from Sloan was to the effect that twelve cars were at thatmoment on the yard siding, loading with cribbing, and that all of it, something more than eighteen hundred thousand feet, would probably be inChicago within a week. A note was scribbled on the margin in Sloan'shandwriting. "Those fool farmers are still coming in expecting a job. Oneis out in the yard now. Came clear from Victory. I've had to send out aman to take down the posters. "

"That's just like a farmer, " Bannon said to Miss Vogel. "Time don't countwith him. Tomorrow morning or two weeks from next Tuesday--he can't seethe difference. I suppose if one of those posters on an inconspicuous treehappens to be overlooked that some old fellow'll come driving in nextFourth of July. "

He buttoned his coat as though going out, but stood looking at herthoughtfully awhile. "All the same, " he said, "I'd like to be that waymyself; never do anything till tomorrow. I'm going to turn farmer someday. Once I get this job done, I'd like to see the man who can hurry me. I'll say to MacBride: 'I'm willing to work on nice, quiet, easy littlejobs that never have to be finished. I'll want to sit at the desk andwhittle most of the time. But if you ever try to put me on a rush job I'llquit and buy a small farm. ' I could make the laziest farmer in twelvestates. Well, I've got to go out on the job. "

An elevator is simply a big grain warehouse, and of course the bins wherethe grain is kept occupy most of the building. But for handling the grainmore than bin room is necessary. Beneath the bins is what is called theworking story, where is the machinery for unloading cars and for liftingthe grain. The cupola, which Bannon was about to frame, is a five-storybuilding perched atop the bins. It contains the appliances for weighingthe grain and distributing it. 

When Bannon climbed out on top of the bins, he found the carpenterspartially flooring over the area, preparatory to putting in place theframework of the cupola. Below them in the bins, like bees in a honeycomb, laborers were taking down the scaffolding which had served in buildingtheir walls. At the south side of the building a group of laborers, underone of the foremen, was rigging what is known as a boom hoist, which wasto lift the timbers for framing the cupola. 

While Bannon stood watching the carpenters, one of them sawed off the endof a plank and dropped it down into the bin. There was a low laugh, andone or two of the men glanced uneasily at Bannon. He spoke to theoffender. 

"Don't do that again if you want to stay on this job. You know there aremen at work down there. " Then: "Look here, " he called, getting theattention of all the carpenters, "every man that drops anything into thebins gets docked an hour's pay. If he does it twice he leaves the job justas quick as we can make out a time-check. I want you to be careful. "

He was picking his way over to the group of men about the hoisting pole, when he heard another general laugh from the carpenters. Turning back hesaw them all looking at a fellow named Reilly, who, trying to suppress asmile, was peering with mock concern down into the dark bin. "My hammerslipped, " Bannon heard him say in a loud aside to the man nearest him. Then, with a laugh: "Accidents will happen. "

Bannon almost smiled himself, for the man had played right into his hand. He had, in the four days since he took command, already become aware ofReilly and had put him down for the sort ambitious to rise rather in theorganization of his union than in his trade. 

"I guess we won't take the trouble to dock you, " he said. "Go to theoffice and get your time. And be quick about it, too. "

"Did ye mean me?" the man asked impudently, but Bannon, without heeding, went over to the hoist. Presently a rough hand fell on his shoulder. "Say, " demanded Reilly again, "did ye mean me?"

"No doubt of that. Go and get your time. "

"I guess not, " said the man. "Not me. My hammer just slipped. How're yougoing to prove I meant to do it?"

"I'm not. I'm going to fire you. You ain't laid off, you understand;you're fired. If you ever come back, I'll have you kicked off the place. "

"You don't dare fire me, " the man said, coming nearer. "You'll have totake me back tomorrow. "

"I'm through talking with you, " said Bannon, still quietly. "The fasteryou can light out of here the better. "

"We'll see about that. You can't come it on the union that way--"

Then, without any preparatory gesture whatever, Bannon knocked him down. The man seemed to fairly rebound from the floor. He rushed at the boss, but before he could come within striking distance, Bannon whipped out arevolver and dropped it level with Reilly's face. 

"I've talked to you, " he said slowly, his eye blazing along the barrel, "and I've knocked you down. But--"

The man staggered back, then walked away very pale, but muttering. Bannonshoved back the revolver into his hip pocket. "It's all right, boys, " hesaid, "nothing to get excited about. "

He walked to the edge and looked over. "We can't wait to pick it up astick at a time, " he said. "I'll tell 'em to load four or five on eachlarry. Then you can lift the whole bunch. "

"We run some chances of a spill or a break that way, " said the foreman. 

"I know it, " answered Bannon, dryly. "That's the kind of chances we'llhave to run for the next two months. "

Descending to the ground, he gave the same order to the men below; then hesent word to Peterson and Vogel that he wished to see them in the office. He wiped his feet on the mat, glancing at Hilda as he did so, but she washard at work and did not look up. He took the one unoccupied chair andplaced it where he could watch the burnished light in her red hair. Presently she turned toward him. 

"Did you want something?" she asked. 

"Excuse me. I guess--I--"

In the midst of his embarrassment, Max and Pete came in. "I've got acouple of letters I want to talk over with you boys, " he said. "That's whyI sent for you. "

Pete laughed and vaulted to a seat on the draughting-table. "I was mostafraid to come, " he said. "I heard you drawed a gun on that fellow, Reilly. What was he doing to make you mad?"

"Nothing much. "

"Well, I'm glad you fired him. He's made trouble right along. How'd ithappen you had a gun with you? Do you always carry one?"

"Haven't been without one on a job since I've worked for the old man. "

"Well, " said Pete, straightening up, "I've never so much as owned one, andI never want to. I don't like 'em. If my fists ain't good enough to takecare of me against any fellow that comes along, why, he's welcome to lickme, that's all. "

Hilda glanced at him, and for a moment her eyes rested on his figure. There was not a line of it but showed grace and strength and a magnificentconfidence. Then, as if for the contrast, she looked at Bannon. He hadbeen watching her all the while, and he seemed to guess her thought. 

"That's all right, " he said in answer to Peterson, "when it's just you andhim and a fellow to hold your coats. But it don't always begin that way. I've been in places where things got pretty miscellaneous sometimes, but Inever had a man come up and say: 'Mr. Bannon, I'm going to lick you. Anytime when you're ready. ' There's generally from three to thirty, and theyall try to get on your back. "

Peterson laughed reminiscently. "I was an attendant in the insane ward ofthe Massachusetts General Hospital for a while, and one time when I wasn'tlooking for it, twenty four of those lunatics all jumped on me at once. They got me on the floor and 'most killed me. " He paused, as though therewas nothing more to tell. 

"Don't stop there, " said Max. 

"Why, " he went on, "I crawled along the floor till I got to a chair, and Ijust knocked 'em around with that till they was quiet. "

Bannon looked at his watch; then he took Brown's letter from his pocket. "It's from the office, " he said. "We've got to have the bins full beforeNew Year's Day. "

"Got to!" exclaimed Pete. "I don't see it that way. We can't do it. "

"Can or can't, that don't interest MacBride a bit. He says it's got to bedone and it has. "

"Why, he can't expect us to do it. He didn't say anything about Januaryfirst to me. I didn't know it was a rush job. And then we played in hardluck, too, before you came. That cribbing being tied up, for instance. Hecertainly can't blame us if--"

"That's got nothing to do with it, " Bannon cut in shortly. "He don't payus to make excuses; he pays us to do as we're told. When I have to beginexplaining to MacBride why it can't be done, I'll send my resignationalong in a separate envelope and go to peddling a cure for corns. What wewant to talk about is how we're going to do it. "

Peterson flushed, but said nothing, and Bannon went on: "Now, here's whatwe've got to do. We've got to frame the cupola and put on the roof andsheathe the entire house with galvanized iron; we've got to finish thespouting house and sheathe that; we've got to build the belt gallery--andwe'll have no end of a time doing it if the C. & S. C. Is still lookingfor trouble. Then there's all the machinery to erect and the millwrightwork to do. And we've got to build the annex. "

"I thought you was going to forget that, " said Pete. "That's the worst jobof all. "

"No, it ain't. It's the easiest. It'll build itself. It's just a case oftwo and two makes four. All you've got to do is spike down two-inch plankstill it's done, and then clap on some sort of a roof. There's nomachinery, no details, just straight work. It's just a question of havingthe lumber to do it with, and we've got it now. It's the little work thatcan raise Ned with you. There is more than a million little things thatany man ought to do in half an hour, but if one of 'em goes wrong, it mayhold you up for all day. Now, I figure the business this way. "

He took a memorandum from his pocket and began reading. There was verylittle guesswork about it; he had set down as nearly as possible theamount of labor involved in each separate piece of construction, and thenumber of men who could work on it at once. Allowing for the differentkinds of work that could be done simultaneously, he made out a total ofone hundred and twenty days. 

"Well, that's all right, I guess, " said Pete, "but you see that takes usway along into next year sometime. "

"About March first, " said Max. 

"You haven't divided by three yet, " said Bannon. "We'll get threeeight-hour days into every twenty-four hours, and twenty-one of 'eminto every week. "

"Why, that's better than we need to do, " said Pete, after a moment. "Thatgets us about two weeks ahead of time. "

"Did you ever get through when you thought you would?" Bannon demanded. "Inever did. Don't you know that you always get hit by something you ain'tlooking for? I'm figuring in our hard-luck margin, that's all. There aresome things I am looking for, too. We'll have a strike here before we getthrough. "

"Oh, I guess not, " said Pete, easily. "You're still thinking of Reilly, aren't you. "

"And for another thing, Page & Company are likely to spring something onus at the last moment. "

"What sort of thing?"

"If I knew I'd go ahead and build it now, but I don't. "

"How are you going to work three gangs? Who'll look after'em?"

"One of us has got to stay up nights, I guess, " said Bannon. "We'll haveto get a couple of boys to help Max keep time. It may take us a day or twoto get the good men divided up and the thing to running properly, but weought to be going full blast by the first of the week. "

He arose and buttoned his coat. "You two know the men better than I do. Iwish you'd go through the pay roll and pick out the best men and find out, if you can, who'll work nights at regular night wages. "

Peterson came out of the office with him. 

"I suppose you'll put me in the night gang, " he said. 

"I haven't decided yet what I'll do. "

"When I came by the main hoist, " Pete went on, "they was picking up fourand five sticks at once. I stopped 'em, and they said it was your orders. You'll come to smash that way, sure as a gun. "

"Not if they don't take more than I told 'em to and if they're careful. They have to do it to keep up with the carpenters. "

"Well, it's running a big risk, that's all. I don't like it. "

"My God, don't I know it's a risk! Do you suppose I like it? We've gotsomething to do, and we've got to do it somehow. "

Pete laughed uneasily. "I--I told 'em not to pick up more than two sticksat a time till they heard from me. "

"I think, " said Bannon, with a look that was new to Pete, "I think you'dbetter go as fast as you can and tell them to go on as they were when youfound them. "

Late on Tuesday afternoon the hoist broke. It was not easy to get from themen a clear account of the accident. The boss of the gang denied that hehad carried more of a load than Bannon had authorized, but some of thetalk among the men indicated the contrary. Only one man was injured and henot fatally, a piece of almost miraculous good luck. Some scaffolding wastorn down and a couple of timbers badly sprung, but the total damage wasreally slight. 

Bannon in person superintended rigging the new hoist. It was ready forwork within two hours after the accident. "She's guyed a little betterthan the other was, I think, " said Bannon to the foreman. "You won't haveany more trouble. Go ahead. "

"How about the load?"

"Carry the same load as before. You weren't any more than keeping up. "

CHAPTER VIII

Five minutes after the noon whistle blew, on Saturday, every carpenter andlaborer knew that Bannon had "pulled a gun" on Reilly. Those who heard itlast heard more than that, for when the story had passed through a fewhands it was bigger and it took longer to tell. And every man, during theafternoon, kept his eyes more closely on his work. Some were angry, butthese dropped from muttering into sullenness; the majority were relieved, for a good workman is surer of himself under a firm than under a slackhand; but all were cowed. And Bannon, when after dinner he looked over thework, knew more about all of them and their feelings, perhaps, than theyknew themselves. He knew, too, that the incident might in the long runmake trouble. But trouble was likely in any case, and it was better tomeet it after he had established his authority than while discipline wasat loose ends. 

But Hilda and Max were disappointed. They were in the habit of talkingover the incidents and problems of the day every night after supper. Andwhile Hilda, as Max used to say, had a mind of her own, she had falleninto the habit of seeing things much as Max saw them. Max had from thestart admired, in his boyish way, Peterson's big muscles and his easy goodnature. He had been the first to catch the new spirit that Bannon had gotinto the work, but it was more the outward activity that he couldunderstand and admire than Bannon's finer achievements in organization. Like Hilda, he did not see the difference between dropping a hammer down abin and overloading a hoist. Bannon's distinction between running risks inorder to push the work and using caution in minor matters was notrecognized in their talks. And as Bannon was not in the habit of givinghis reasons, the misunderstanding grew. But more than all Max felt, and ina way Hilda felt, too, that Peterson would never have found it necessaryto use a revolver; his fists would have been enough for a dozen Reillys. Max did not tell Hilda about all the conversations he and Peterson had hadduring the last week, for they were confidential. Peterson had never beenwithout a confidant, and though he still shared a room with Bannon, hecould not talk his mind out with him. Max, who to Bannon was merely anunusually capable lumber-checker, was to Peterson a friend and adviser. And though Max tried to defend Bannon when Peterson fell into criticism ofthe way the work was going, he was influenced by it. 

During the few days after the accident Hilda was so deeply distressedabout the injured man that Max finally went to see him. 

"He's pretty well taken care of, " he said when he returned. "There's someribs broken, he says, and a little fever, but it ain't serious. He's got acouple of sneaking little lawyers around trying to get him to sue fordamages, but I don't think he'll do it. The Company's giving him full payand all his doctor's bills. "

Nearly every evening after that Max took him some little delicacy. Hildamade him promise that he would not tell who sent them. 

Bannon had quickly caught the changed attitude toward him, and for severaldays kept his own counsel. But one morning, after dictating some lettersto Hilda, he lingered. 

"How's our fund getting on?" he said, smiling. "Have you looked lately?"

"No, " she said, "I haven't. "

He leaned over the railing and opened the box. 

"It's coming slow, " he said, shaking his head. "Are you sure nobody's beengetting away from us?"

Hilda was seated before the typewriter. She turned partly around, withouttaking her ringers from the keys. 

"I don't know, " she said quietly. "I haven't been watching it. "

"We'll have to be stricter about it, " said Bannon. "These fellows have gotto understand that rules are rules. "

He spoke with a little laugh, but the remark was unfortunate. The only menwho came within the railing were Max and Peterson. 

"I may have forgotten it, myself, " she said. 

"That won't do, you know. I don't know but what I can let you off thistime--I'll tell you what I'll do, Miss Vogel: I'll make a new rule thatyou can come in without wiping your feet if you'll hand in a writtenexcuse. That's the way they did things when I went to school. " He turnedto go, then hesitated again. "You haven't been out on the job yet, haveyou?"

"No, I haven't. "

"I rather think you'd like it. It's pretty work, now that we're framingthe cupola. If you say so, I'll fix it for you to go up to thedistributing floor this afternoon. "

She looked back at the machine. 

"The view ain't bad, " he went on, "when you get up there. You can see downinto Indiana, and all around. You could see all Chicago, too, if it wasn'tfor the smoke. "

There was a moment's silence. 

"Why, yes, Mr. Bannon, " she said; "I'd like to go very much. "

"All right, " he replied, his smile returning. "I'll guarantee to get youup there somehow, if I have to build a stairway. Ninety feet's prettyhigh, you know. "

When Bannon reached the elevator he stood for a moment in the well at thewest end of the structure. This well, or "stairway bin, " sixteen bythirty-two feet, and open from the ground to the distributing floor, occupied the space of two bins. It was here that the stairway would be, and the passenger elevator, and the rope-drive for the transmission ofpower from the working to the distributing floor. The stairway was barelyindicated by rude landings. For the present a series of eight ladderszigzagged up from landing to landing. Bannon began climbing; halfway up hemet Max, who was coming down, time book in hand. 

"Look here, Max, " he said, "we're going to have visitors this afternoon. If you've got a little extra time I'd like to have you help get thingsready. "

"All right, " Max replied. "I'm not crowded very hard today. "

"I've asked your sister to come up and see the framing. "

Max glanced down between the loose boards on the landing. 

"I don't know, " he said slowly; "I don't believe she could climb up herevery well. "

"She won't have to. I'm going to put in a passenger elevator, and carryher up as grand as the Palmer House. You put in your odd minutes betweennow and three o'clock making a box that's big and strong enough. "

Max grinned. 

"Say, that's all right. She'll like that. I can do most of it at noon. "

Bannon nodded and went on up the ladders. At the distributing floor helooked about for a long timber, and had the laborers lay it across thewell opening. The ladders and landings occupied only about a third of thespace; the rest was open, a clear drop of eighty feet. 

At noon he found Max in an open space behind the office, screwing ironrings into the corners of a stout box. Max glanced up and laughed. 

"I made Hilda promise not to come out here, " he said. He waved his handtoward the back wall of the office. Bannon saw that he had nailed stripsover the larger cracks and knot holes. "She was peeking, but I shut thatoff before I'd got very far along. I don't think she saw what it was. Ionly had part of the frame done. "

"She'll be coming out in a minute, " said Bannon. 

"I know. I thought of that. " Max threw an armful of burlap sacking overthe box. "That'll cover it up enough. I guess it's time to quit, anyway, if I'm going to get any dinner. There's a little square of carpet up tothe house that I'm going to get for the bottom, and we can run pieces ofhalf-inch rope from the rings up to a hook, and sling it right on thehoist. "

"It's not going on the hoist, " said Bannon. "I wouldn't stop the timbersfor Mr. MacBride himself. When you go back, you'll see a timber on thetop of the well. I'd like you to sling a block under it and run aninch-and-a-quarter rope through. We'll haul it up from below. "

"What power?"

"Man power. "

"All right, Mr. Bannon. I'll see to it. There's Hilda now. "

He called to her to wait while he got his coat, and then the twodisappeared across the tracks. Hilda had bowed to Bannon, but without thesmile and the nod that he liked. He looked after her as if he wouldfollow; but he changed his mind, and waited a few minutes. 

The "elevator" was ready soon after the afternoon's work had commenced. Bannon found time between two and three o'clock to inspect the tackle. Hepicked up an end of rope and lashed the cross timber down securely. Thenhe went down the ladders and found Max, who had brought the carpet for thebox and was looking over his work. The rope led up to the top of the wellthrough a pulley and then back to the working floor and through anotherpulley, so that the box could be hoisted from below. 

"It's all ready, " said Max. "It'll run up as smooth as you want. "

"You'd better go for your sister, then, " Bannon replied. 

Max hesitated. 

"You meant for me to bring her?"

"Yes, I guess you might as well. "

Bannon stood looking after Max as he walked along the railroad track outinto the open air. Then he glanced up between the smooth walls of cribbingthat seemed to draw closer and closer together until they ended, faroverhead, in a rectangle of blue sky. The beam across the top was a blackline against the light. The rope, hanging from it, swayed lazily. Hewalked around the box, examining the rings and the four corner ropes, andtesting them. 

Hilda was laughing when she came with Max along the track. Bannon couldnot see her at first for the intervening rows of timbers that supportedthe bins. Then she came into view through an opening between two "bents"of timber, beyond a heap of rubbish that had been thrown at one side ofthe track. She was trying to walk on the rail, one arm thrown out tobalance, the other resting across Max's shoulders. Her jacket was buttonedsnugly up to the chin, and there was a fresh color in her face. 

Bannon had called in three laborers to man the rope; they stood at oneside, awaiting the order to haul away. He found a block of wood, and setit against the box for a step. 

"This way, Miss Vogel, " he called. "The elevator starts in a minute. Youcame pretty near being late. "

"Am I going to get in that?" she asked; and she looked up, with a littlegasp, along the dwindling rope. 

"Here, " said Max, "don't you say nothing against that elevator. I call itpretty grand. "

She stood on the block, holding to one of the ropes, and lookingalternately into the box and up to the narrow sky above them. 

"It's awfully high, " she said. "Is that little stick up there all that'sgoing to hold me up?"

"That little stick is ten-by-twelve, " Max replied. "It would hold more'n adozen of you. "

She laughed, but still hesitated. She lowered her eyes and looked aboutthe great dim space of the working story with its long aisles and itssolid masses of timber. Suddenly she turned to Bannon, who was standing ather side, waiting to give her a hand. 

"Oh, Mr. Bannon, " she said, "are you sure it's strong enough? It doesn'tlook safe. "

"I think it's safe, " he replied quietly. He vaulted into the box andsignalled to the laborers. Hilda stepped back off the block as he went upperhaps a third of the way, and then came down. She said nothing, butstepped on the block. 

"How shall I get in?" she asked, laughing a little, but not looking atBannon. 

"Here, " said Bannon, "give us each a hand. A little jump'll do it. Maxhere'll go along the ladders and steady you if you swing too much. Wait aminute, though. " He hurried out of doors, and returned with a light line, one end of which he made fast to the box, the other he gave to Max. 

"Now, " he said, "you can guide it as nice as walking upstairs. "

They started up, Hilda sitting in the box and holding tightly to thesides, Max climbing the ladders with the end of the line about his wrist. Bannon joined the laborers, and kept a hand on the hoisting rope. 

"You'd better not look down, " he called after her. 

She laughed and shook her head. Bannon waited until they had reached thetop, and Max had lifted her out on the last landing; then, at Max's shout, he made the rope fast and followed up the ladders. 

He found them waiting for him near the top of the well. 

"We might as well sit down, " he said. He led the way to a timber a fewsteps away. "Well, Miss Vogel, how do you like it?"

She was looking eagerly about; at the frame, a great skeleton of newtimber, some of it still holding so much of the water of river andmill-yard that it glistened in the sunlight; at the moving groups of men, the figure of Peterson standing out above the others on a high girder, his arms knotted, and his neck bare, though the day was not warm; at thestraining hoist, trembling with each new load that came swinging fromsomewhere below, to be hustled off to its place, stick by stick; and thenout into the west, where the November sun was dropping, and around at thehazy flats and the strip of a river. She drew in her breath quickly, andlooked up at Bannon with a nervous little gesture. 

"I like it, " she finally said, after a long silence, during which they hadwatched a big stick go up on one of the small hoists, to be swung intoplace and driven home on the dowel pins by Peterson's sledge. 

"Isn't Pete a hummer?" said Max. "I never yet saw him take hold of a thingthat was too much for him. "

Neither Hilda nor Bannon replied to this, and there was another silence. 

"Would you like to walk around and see things closer to?" Bannon asked, turning to Miss Vogel. 

"I wouldn't mind. It's rather cold, sitting still. "

He led the way along one side of the structure, guiding her carefully inplaces where the flooring was not yet secure. 

"I'm glad you came up, " he said. "A good many people think there's nothingin this kind of work but just sawing wood and making money for somebody upin Minneapolis. But it isn't that way. It's pretty, and sometimes it'sexciting; and things happen every little while that are interesting enoughto tell to anybody, if people only knew it. I'll have you come up a littlelater, when we get the house built and the machinery coming in. That'swhen we'll have things really moving. There'll be some fun putting up thebelt gallery, too. That'll be over here on the other side. "

He turned to lead the way across the floor to the north side of thebuilding. They had stopped a little way from the boom hoist, and she wasstanding motionless, watching as the boom swung out and the rope rattledto the ground. There was the purring of the engine far below, thestraining of the rope, and the creaking of the blocks as the heavy loadcame slowly up. Gangs of men were waiting to take the timbers the momentthey reached the floor. The foreman of the hoist gang was leaning out overthe edge, looking down and shouting orders. 

Hilda turned with a little start and saw that Bannon was waiting for her. Following him, she picked her way between piles of planks and timber, andbetween groups of laborers and carpenters, to the other side. Now theycould look down at the four tracks of the C. & S. C, the unfinishedspouting house on the wharf, and the river. 

"Here's where the belt gallery will go, " he said, pointing downward:"right over the tracks to the spouting house. They carry the grain onendless belts, you know. "

"Doesn't it ever fall off?"

"Not a kernel. It's pretty to watch. When she gets to running we'll comeup some day and look at it. "

They walked slowly back toward the well. Before they reached it Petersonand Max joined them. Peterson had rolled down his sleeves and put on hiscoat. 

"You ain't going down now, are you?" he said. "We'll be starting in prettysoon on some of the heavy framing. This is just putting in girders. "

He was speaking directly to Miss Vogel, but he made an effort to includeBannon in the conversation by an awkward movement of his head. Thisstiffness in Peterson's manner when Bannon was within hearing had beengrowing more noticeable during the past few days. 

"Don't you think of going yet, " he continued, with a nervous laugh, forHilda was moving on. "She needn't be in such a rush to get to work, eh, Charlie?"

Hilda did not give Bannon a chance to reply. 

"Thank you very much, Mr. Peterson, " she said, smiling, "but I must goback, really. Maybe you'll tell me some day when you're going to dosomething special, so I can come up again. "

Peterson's disappointment was so frankly shown in his face that she smiledagain. "I've enjoyed it very much, " she said. She was still looking atPeterson, but at the last word she turned to include Bannon, as if she hadsuddenly remembered that he was in the party. There was an uncomfortablefeeling, shown by all in their silence and in their groping about forsomething to say. 

"I'll go ahead and clear the track, " said Bannon. "I'll holler up to you, Max, when we're ready down below. "

"Here, " said Max, "let me go down. "

But Bannon had already started down the first ladder. 

"The next time you come to visit us, Miss Vogel, " he called back, "I guesswe'll have our real elevator in, and we can run you up so fast it'll takeyour breath away. We'll be real swells here yet. "

When he reached the working floor, he called in the laborers and shoutedto Max. But when the box, slowly descending, appeared below the bin walls, it was Peterson who held the line and chatted with Hilda as he steadiedher. 

The next day a lot of cribbing came from Ledyard, and Bannon at once setabout reorganizing his forces so that work could go on night and day. Heand Peterson would divide the time equally into twelve-hour days; butthree divisions were necessary for the men, the morning shift working frommidnight until eight o'clock, the day shift from eight to four, and thenight shift from four to midnight. 

Finally, when the whistle blew, at noon, Bannon tipped back his chair andpushed his hat back on his head. 

"Well, " he said, "that's fixed. "

"When will we begin on it?" Peterson asked. 

"Today. Have the whistle blow at four. It'll make some of the men workovertime today, but we'll pay them for it. "

Miss Vogel was putting on her jacket. Before joining Max, who was waitingat the door, she asked:--

"Do you want me to make any change in my work, Mr. Bannon?"

"No, you'd better go ahead just as you are. We won't try to cut you upinto three shifts yet awhile. We can do what letters and accounts we havein the daytime. "

She nodded and left the office. 

All through the morning's work Peterson had worn a heavy, puzzledexpression, and now that they had finished, he seemed unable to throw itoff. Bannon, who had risen and was reaching for his ulster, which he hadthrown over the railing, looked around at him. 

"You and I'll have to make twelve-hour days of it, you know, " he said. Heknew, from his quick glance and the expression almost of relief that cameover his face, that this was what Peterson had been waiting for. "You'dbetter come on in the evening, if it's all the same to you--at seven. I'lltake it in the morning and keep an eye on it during the day. "

Peterson's eyes had lowered at the first words. He swung one leg over theother and picked up the list of carpenters that Max had made out, pretending to examine it. Bannon was not watching him closely, but hecould have read the thoughts behind that sullen face. If theirmisunderstanding had arisen from business conditions alone, Bannon wouldhave talked out plainly. But now that Hilda had come between them, andparticularly that it was all so vague--a matter of feeling, and not at allof reason--he had decided to say nothing. It was important that he shouldcontrol the work during the day, and coming on at seven in the morning, hewould have a hand on the work of all three shifts. He knew that Petersonwould not see it reasonably; that he would think it was done to keep himaway from Hilda. He stood leaning against the gate to keep it open, buttoning his ulster. 

"Coming on up to the house, Pete?"

Peterson got down off the railing. 

"So you're going to put me on the night shift, " he said, almost as a childwould have said it. 

"I guess that's the way it's got to work out, " Bannon replied. "Comingup?"

"No--not yet. I'll be along pretty soon. "

Bannon started toward the door, but turned with a snap of his finger. 

"Oh, while we're at it, Pete--you'd better tell Max to get those men tokeep time for the night shifts. "

"You mean you want him to go on with you in the daytime?"

"That's just as he likes. But I guess he'll want to be around while hissister is here. You see about that after lunch, will you?"

Peterson came in while Bannon was eating his dinner and stayed after hehad gone. In the evening, when he returned to the house for his supper, after arranging with Peterson to share the first night's work, Bannonfound that the foreman's clothes and grip had been taken from the room. Onthe stairs he met the landlady, and asked her if Mr. Peterson had moved. 

"Yes, " she replied; "he took his things away this noon. I'm sorry he'sgone, for he was a good young man. He never give me any trouble like someof the men do that's been here. The trouble with most of them is that theyget drunk on pay-days and come home simply disgusting. "

Bannon passed on without comment. During the evening he saw Peterson onthe distributing floor, helping the man from the electric light companyrig up a new arc light. His expression when he caught sight of Bannon, sullen and defiant, yet showing a great effort to appear natural, was theonly explanation needed of how matters stood between them. 

It took a few days to get the new system to running smoothly--newcarpenters and laborers had to be taken on, and new foremen worked intotheir duties--but it proved to be less difficult than Max and Hilda hadsupposed from what Peterson had to say about the conduct of the work. Themen all worked better than before; each new move of Bannon's seemed toinfuse more vigor and energy into the work; and the cupola and annex beganrapidly, as Max said, "to look like something. " Bannon was on hand allday, and frequently during a large part of the night. He had a way ofappearing at any hour to look at the work and keep it moving. Max, afterhearing the day men repeat what the night men had to tell of the boss andhis work, said to his sister: "Honest, Hilda, I don't see how he does it. I don't believe he ever takes his clothes off. "

CHAPTER IX

The direct result of the episode with the carpenter Reilly wasinsignificant. He did not attempt to make good his boast that he would beback at work next day, and when he did appear, on Wednesday of the nextweek, his bleared eyes and dilapidated air made the reason plain enough. Abusiness agent of his union was with him; Bannon found them in the office. 

He nodded to the delegate. "Sit down, " he said. Then he turned to Reilly. "I don't ask you to do the same. You're not wanted on the premises. I toldyou once before that I was through talking. "

Reilly started to reply, but his companion checked him. "That's allright, " he said. "I know your side of it. Wait for me up by the car line. "

When Reilly had gone Bannon repeated his invitation to sit down. 

"You probably know why I've come, " the delegate began. "Mr. Reilly hascharged you with treating him unjustly and with drawing a revolver on him. Of course, in a case like this, we try to get at both sides before we takeany action. Would you give me your account of it?"

Bannon told in twenty words just how it had happened. The agent saidcautiously: "Reilly told another story. "

"I suppose so. Now, I don't ask you to take my word against his. If you'dlike to investigate the business, I'll give you all the opportunity youwant. "

"If we find that he did drop the hammer by accident, would you be willingto take him back?"

Bannon smiled. "There's no use in my telling you what I'll do till youtell me what you want me to do, is there?"

Bannon held out his hand when the man rose to go. 

"Any time you think there's something wrong out here, or anything youdon't understand, come out and we'll talk it over. I treat a man as wellas I can, if he's square with me. "

He walked to the door with the agent and closed it after him. As he turnedback to the draughting table, he found Hilda's eyes on him. "They're veryclean chaps, mostly, those walking delegates, " he said. "If you treat 'emhalf as well as you'd treat a yellow dog, they're likely to be veryreasonable. If one of 'em does happen to be a rascal, though, he's meanerto handle than frozen dynamite. I expect to be white-headed before I'mthrough with that man Grady. "

"Is he a rascal?" she asked. 

"He's as bad as you find 'em. Even if he'd been handled right--"

Bannon broke off abruptly and began turning over the blue prints. "SupposeI'd better see how this next story looks, " he said. Hilda had heard howPete had dealt with Grady at their first meeting, and she could completethe broken sentence. 

Bannon never heard whether the agent from the carpenters' union had lookedfurther into Reilly's case, but he was not asked to take him back on thepay roll. But that was not the end of the incident. Coming out on thedistributing floor just before noon on Thursday, he found Grady in the actof delivering an impassioned oration to the group of laborers about thehoist. Before Grady saw him, Bannon had come near enough to hear somethingabout being "driven at the point of a pistol. "

The speech came suddenly to an end when Grady, following the glances ofhis auditors, turned and saw who was coming. Bannon noted withsatisfaction the scared look of appeal which he turned, for a second, toward the men. It was good to know that Grady was something of a coward. 

Bannon nodded to him pleasantly enough. "How are you, Grady?" he said. 

Seeing that he was in no danger, the delegate threw back his shoulders, held up his head, and, frowning in an important manner, he returnedBannon's greeting with the scantest civility. 

Bannon walked up and stood beside him. "If you can spare the time, " hesaid politely, "I'd like to see you at the office for a while. "

Convinced now that Bannon was doing everything in his power to conciliatehim, Grady grew more important. "Very well, " he said; "when I've gotthrough up here, ye can see me if ye like. "

"All right, " said Bannon, patiently; "no hurry. "

During the full torrent of Grady's eloquence the work had not actuallybeen interrupted. The big boom bearing its load of timber swept in overthe distributing floor with unbroken regularity; but the men had workedwith only half their minds and had given as close attention as they daredto the delegate's fervid utterances. But from the moment Bannon appearedthere had been a marked change in the attitude of the little audience;they steered the hoist and canted the timbers about with a suddenenthusiasm which made Bannon smile a little as he stood watching them. 

Grady could not pump up a word to say. He cleared his throat loudly onceor twice, but the men ignored him utterly. He kept casting his shiftylittle sidewise glances at the boss, wondering why he didn't go away, butBannon continued to stand there, giving an occasional direction, andwatching the progress of the work with much satisfaction. The littledelegate shifted his weight from one foot to the other and cleared histhroat again. Then he saw that two or three of the men were grinning. Thatwas too much. 

"Well, I'll go with you, " he snapped. 

Bannon could not be sure how much of an impression Grady's big words andhis ridiculous assumption of importance had made upon the men, but hedetermined to counteract it as thoroughly as possible, then and there. Itwas a sort of gallery play that he had decided on, but he felt sure itwould prove effective. 

Grady turned to go down as he had come up, by the ladders, but Bannoncaught him by the shoulder, saying with a laugh: "Oh, don't waste yourtime walking. Take the elevator. " His tone was friendly but his grip waslike a man-trap, and he was propelling Grady straight toward the edge ofthe building. Four big timbers had just come up and Bannon caught thereleased rope as it came trailing by. "Here, " he said; "put your foot inthe hook and hang on, and you'll come down in no time. "

Grady laughed nervously. "No you don't. I suppose you'd be glad to get ridof me that way. You don't come that on me. "

The men were watching with interest; Bannon raised his voice a little. "All right, " he said, thrusting his foot into the great hook, "if you feelthat way about it. We'll have a regular passenger elevator in here by andby, with an electric bell and sliding door, for the capitalist crowd thatare going to own the place. But we workingmen get along all right on this. Swing off, boys. "

He waited for Grady down below. It mattered very little to him now whetherthe walking delegate chose to follow him down the hoist or to walk down onthe ladders, for every one had seen that Grady was afraid. Bannon had seenall the men grinning broadly as he began his descent, and that was all hewanted. 

Evidently Grady's fear of the rope was less than his dread of the ridiculeof the men, for Bannon saw him preparing to come down after the next load. He took a long time getting ready, but at last they started him. He wasthe color of a handful of waste when he reached the ground, and hestaggered as he walked with Bannon over to the office. He dropped into achair and rubbed his forehead with his coat-sleeve. 

"Well, " said Bannon, "do you like the look of things? I hope you didn'tfind anything out of the way?"

"Do you dare ask me that?" Grady began. His voice was weak at first, butas his giddiness passed away it arose again to its own inimitableoratorical level. "Do you dare pretend that you are treating these menright? Who gave you the right to decide that this man shall live and thisman shall die, and that this poor fellow who asks no more than to beallowed to earn his honest living with his honest sweat shall be strickendown with two broken ribs?"

"I don't know, " said Bannon. "You're speaking of the hoist accident, Isuppose. Well, go and ask that man if he has any complaint to make. If hehas, come and let me know about it. "

"They call this a free country, and yet you oppressors can compel men torisk their lives--"

"Have you any changes to suggest in the way that hoist is rigged?" Bannoncut in quietly. "You've been inspecting it. What did you think was unsafeabout it?"

Grady was getting ready for his next outburst, but Bannon prevented him. "There ain't many jobs, if you leave out tacking down carpets, where a mandon't risk his life more or less. MacBride don't compel men to risk theirlives; he pays 'em for doing it, and you can bet he's done it himself. Wedon't like it, but it's necessary. Now, if you saw men out there takingrisks that you think are unnecessary, why, say so, and we'll talk itover. "

"There's another thing you've got to answer for, Mr. Bannon. These arefree men that are devoting their honest labor to you. You may think you'rea slave driver, but you aren't. You may flourish your revolver in thefaces of slaves, but free American citizens will resent it--"

"Mr. Grady, the man I drew a gun on was a carpenter. His own union islooking after him. He had thrown a hammer down into a bin where some ofyour laborers were at work, so I acted in their defence. "

Grady stood up. "I come here to give you warning today, Mr. Bannon. Thereis a watchful eye on you. The next time I come it will not be to warn, butto act. That's all I've got to say to you now. "

Bannon, too, was on his feet. "Mr. Grady, we try to be fair to our men. It's your business to see that we are fair, so we ought to get on allright together. After this, if the men lodge any complaint with you, cometo me; don't go out on the job and make speeches. If you're looking forfair play, you'll get it. If you're looking for trouble, you'll get it. Good-morning. "

The new regime in operation at the elevator was more of a hardship toPeterson than to any one else, because it compelled him to be much alone. Not only was he quite cut off from the society of Max and Hilda, but ithappened that the two or three under-foremen whom he liked best were onthe day shift. The night's work with none of those pleasant littlemomentary interruptions that used to occur in the daytime was mereunrelieved drudgery, but the afternoons, when he had given up trying tosleep any longer, were tedious enough to make him long for six o'clock. 

Naturally, his disposition was easy and generous, but he had never been inthe habit of thinking much, and thinking, especially as it led tobrooding, was not good for him. From the first, of course, he had beenhurt that the office should have thought it necessary to send Bannon tosupersede him, but so long as he had plenty to do and was in Bannon'scompany every hour of the day, he had not taken time to think about itmuch. But now he thought of little else, and as time went on he succeededin twisting nearly everything the new boss had said or done to fit histheory that Bannon was jealous of him and was trying to take from him thecredit which rightfully belonged to him. And Bannon had put him in chargeof the night shift, so Peterson came to think, simply because he had seenthat Hilda was beginning to like him. 

About four o'clock one afternoon, not many days after Grady's talk withBannon, Peterson sat on the steps of his boarding-house, trying to make uphis mind what to do, and wishing it were six o'clock. He wanted to strolldown to the job to have a chat with his friends, but he had somewhatchildishly decided he wasn't wanted there while Miss Vogel was in theoffice, so he sat still and whittled, and took another view of hisgrievances. Glancing up, he saw Grady, the walking delegate, coming alongthe sidewalk. Now that the responsibility of the elevator was off hisshoulders he no longer cherished any particular animosity toward thelittle Irishman, but he remembered their last encounter and wonderedwhether he should speak to him or not. 

But Grady solved his doubt by calling out cheerfully to know how he wasand turning in toward the steps. "I suppose I ought to lick you afterwhat's passed between us, " he added with a broad smile, "but if you'rewilling we'll call it bygones. "

"Sure, " said Peterson. 

"It's fine seasonable weather we're having, and just the thing for you onthe elevator. It's coming right along. "

"First-rate. "

"It's as interesting a bit of work as I ever saw. I was there the otherday looking at it. And, by the way, I had a long talk with Mr. Bannon. He's a fine man. "

Grady had seated himself on the step below Peterson. Now for the firsttime he looked at him. 

"He's a good hustler, " said Peterson. 

"Well, that's what passes for a fine man, these days, though mistakes aresometimes made that way. But how does it happen that you're not down theresuperintending? I hope some carpenter hasn't taken it into his head tofire the boss. "

"I'm not boss there any longer. The office sent Bannon down to take itover my head. "

"You don't tell me that? It's a pity. " Grady was shaking his headsolemnly. "It's a pity. The men like you first-rate, Mr. Peterson. I'm notsaying they don't like anybody else, but they like you. But people in anoffice a thousand miles away can't know everything, and that's a fact. Andso he laid you off. "

"Oh, no, I ain't quite laid off--yet. He's put me in charge of the nightshift. "

"So you're working nights, then? It seemed to me you was working fastenough in the daytime to satisfy anybody. But I suppose some rich man isin a hurry for it and you must do your best to accommodate him. "

"You bet, he's in a hurry for it. He won't listen to reason at all. Saysthe bins have got to be chock full of grain before January first, nomatter what happens to us. He don't care how much it costs, either. "

"I must be going along, " said Grady, getting to his feet. "That man mustbe in a hurry. January first! That's quick work, and he don't care howmuch it costs him. Oh, these rich devils! They're hustlers, too, Mr. Peterson. Well, good-night to you. "

Peterson saw Bannon twice every day, --for a half hour at night when hetook charge of the job, and for another half hour in the morning when herelinquished it. That was all except when they chanced to meet duringBannon's irregular nightly wanderings about the elevator. As the days hadgone by these conversations had been confined more and more rigidly tonecessary business, and though this result was Peterson's own fringingabout, still he charged it up as another of his grievances against Bannon. 

When, about an hour after his conversation with Grady, he started down tothe elevator to take command, he knew he ought to tell Bannon of hisconversation with Grady, and he fully intended doing so. But hisdetermination oozed away as he neared the office, and when he finally sawBannon he decided to say nothing about it whatever. He decided thus partlybecause he wished to make his conversation with Bannon as short aspossible, partly because he had not made up his mind what significance, ifany, the incident had, and (more than either of these reasons) becauseever since Grady had repeated the phrase: "He don't care what it costshim, " Peterson had been uneasily aware that he had talked too much. 

CHAPTER X

Grady's affairs were prospering beyond his expectations, confident thoughhe had been. Away back in the summer, when the work was in its earlystages, his eye had been upon it; he had bided his time in the somewhatindefinite hope that something would turn up. But he went away jubilantfrom his conversation with Peterson, for it seemed that all the cards werein his hands. 

Just as a man running for a car is the safest mark for a gamin's snowball, so Calumet K, through being a rush job as well as a rich one, offered aparticularly advantageous field for Grady's endeavors. Men who were tryingto accomplish the impossible feat of completing, at any cost, the greathulk on the river front before the first of January, would not be likelyto stop to quibble at paying the five thousand dollars or so that Grady, who, as the business agent of his union was simply in masquerade, wouldlike to extort. 

He had heard that Peterson was somewhat disaffected to Bannon's authority, but had not expected him to make so frank an avowal of it. That was almostas much in his favor as the necessity for hurry. These, with the hoistaccident to give a color of respectability to the operation, ought to makeit simple enough. He had wit enough to see that Bannon was a much harderman to handle than Peterson, and that with Peterson restored to fullauthority, the only element of uncertainty would be removed. And hethought that if he could get Peterson to help him it might be possible tosecure Bannon's recall. If the scheme failed, he had still another shot inhis locker, but this one was worth a trial, anyway. 

One afternoon in the next week he went around to Peterson's boarding-houseand sent up his card with as much ceremony as though the night boss hadbeen a railway president. 

"I hope you can spare me half an hour, Mr. Peterson. There's a littlematter of business I'd like to talk over with you. "

The word affected Peterson unpleasantly. That was a little farther than hecould go without a qualm. "Sure, " he said uneasily, looking at his watch. 

"I don't know as I should call it business, either, " Grady went on. "Whenyou come right down to it, it's a matter of friendship, for surely it's nobusiness of mine. Maybe you think it's queer--I think it's queer myself, that I should be coming 'round tendering my friendly services to a manwho's had his hands on my throat threatening my life. That ain't my way, but somehow I like you, Mr. Peterson, and there's an end of it. And when Ilike a man, I like him, too. How's the elevator? Everything going toplease you?"

"I guess it's going all right. It ain't--" Pete hesitated, and then gaveup the broken sentence. "It's all right, " he repeated. 

Grady smiled. "There's the good soldier. Won't talk against his general. But, Mr. Peterson, let me ask you a question; answer me as a man of sense. Which makes the best general--the man who leads the charge straight up tothe intrenchments, yellin': 'Come on, boys!'--or the one who says, verylikely shaking a revolver in their faces: 'Get in there, ye damn low-downprivates, and take that fort, and report to me when I've finished mybreakfast'? Which one of those two men will the soldiers do the most for?For the one they like best, Mr. Peterson, and don't forget it. And whichone of these are they going to like best, do you suppose--the brave leaderwho scorns to ask his men to go where he wouldn't go himself, who isn'tashamed to do honest work with honest hands, whose fists are good enoughto defend him against his enemies; or the man who is afraid to go outamong the men without a revolver in his hip pocket? Answer me as a man ofsense, Mr. Peterson. "

Peterson was manifestly disturbed by the last part of the harangue. Now hesaid: "Oh, I guess Bannon wasn't scared when he drawed that gun on Reilly. He ain't that kind. "

"Would you draw a gun on an unarmed, defenceless man?" Grady askedearnestly. 

"No, I wouldn't. I don't like that way of doing. "

"The men don't like it either, Mr. Peterson. No more than you do. Theylike you. They'll do anything you ask them to. They know that you can doanything that they can. But, Mr. Peterson, I'll be frank with you. Theydon't like the man who crowded you out. That's putting it mild. I won'tsay they hate him for an uncivil, hard-tongued, sneaking weasel of aspy--"

"I never knew Bannon to do anything like that, " said Peterson, slowly. 

"I did. Didn't he come sneaking up and hear what I was saying--up on topof the elevator the other day? I guess he won't try that again. I told himthat when I was ready to talk to him, I'd come down to the office to doit. "

Grady was going almost too far; Pete would not stand very much more;already he was trying to get on his feet to put an end to theconversation. "I ask your pardon, Mr. Peterson. I forgot he was a friendof yours. But the point is right here. The men don't like him. They'vebeen wanting to strike these three days, just because they don't want towork for that ruffian. I soothed them all I can, but they won't hold inmuch longer. Mark my words, there'll be a strike on your hands before theweek's out unless you do something pretty soon. "

"What have they got to strike about? Don't we treat them all right? Whatdo they kick about?"

"A good many things, big and little. But the real reason is the one I'vebeen giving you--Bannon. Neither more nor less. "

"Do you mean they'd be all right if another man was in charge?"

Grady could not be sure from Peterson's expression whether the ice werefirm enough to step out boldly upon, or not. He tested it cautiously. 

"Mr. Peterson, I know you're a good man. I know you're a generous man. Iknow you wouldn't want to crowd Bannon out of his shoes the way he crowdedyou out of yours; not even after the way he's treated you. But look here, Mr. Peterson. Who's your duty to? The men up in Minneapolis who pay yoursalary, or the man who has come down here and is giving orders over yourhead?

"--No, just let me finish, Mr. Peterson. I know what you're going to say. But do your employers want to get the job done by New Year's? They do. Do they pay you to help get it done? They do. Will it be done if thatwould-be murderer of a Bannon is allowed to stay here? It will not, youcan bet on that. Then it's your duty to get him out of here, and I'm goingto help you do it. "

Grady was on his feet when he declaimed the last sentence. He flung outhis hand toward Pete. "Shake on it!" he cried. 

Peterson had also got to his feet, but more slowly. He did not take thehand. "I'm much obliged, Mr. Grady, " he said. "It's very kind in you. Ifthat's so as you say, I suppose he'll have to go. And he'll go all rightwithout any shoving when he sees that it is so. You go and tell just whatyou've told me to Charlie Bannon. He's boss on this job. "

Grady would have fared better with a man of quicker intelligence. Petersonwas so slow at catching the blackmailer's drift that he spoke in perfectlygood faith when he made the suggestion that he tell Bannon, and Grady wentaway a good deal perplexed as to the best course to pursue, --whether to godirectly to Bannon, or to try the night boss again. 

As for Peterson, four or five times during his half-hour talk with Bannonat the office that evening, he braced himself to tell the boss what Gradyhad said, but it was not till just as Bannon was going home that itfinally came out. "Have you seen Grady lately?" Pete asked, as calmly ashe could. 

"He was around here something more than a week ago; gave me a littlebombthrowers' anniversary oratory about oppressors and a watchful eye. There's no use paying any attention to him yet. He thinks he's got sometrouble cooking for us on the stove, but we'll have to wait till he turnsit into the dish. He ain't as dangerous as he thinks he is. "

"He's been around to see me lately--twice. "

"He has! What did he want with you? When was it he came?"

"The first time about a week ago. That was nothing but a little friendlytalk, but--"

"Friendly! Him! What did he have to say?"

"Why, it was nothing. I don't remember. He wanted to know if I was laidoff, and I told him I was on the night shift. "

"Was that all?"

"Pretty near. He wanted to know what we was in such a hurry about, workingnights, and I said we had to be through by January first. Then he said hesupposed it must be for some rich man who didn't care how much it costhim; and I said yes, it was. That was all. He didn't mean nothing. We werejust passing the time of day. I don't see any harm in that. "

Bannon was leaning on the rail, his face away from Peterson. After a whilehe spoke thoughtfully. "Well, that cinches it. I guess he meant to hold usup, anyway, but now he knows we're a good thing. "

"How's that? I don't see, " said Peterson; but Bannon made no reply. 

"What did he have to offer the next time he came around? More in the samefriendly way? When was it?"

"Just this afternoon. Why, he said he was afraid we'd have a strike on ourhands. "

"He ought to know, " said Bannon. "Did he give any reason?"

"Yes, he did. You won't mind my speaking it right out, I guess. He saidthe men didn't like you, and if you wasn't recalled they'd likely strike. He said they'd work under me if you was recalled, but he didn't think hecould keep 'em from going out if you stayed. That ain't what I think, mindyou; I'm just telling you what he said. Then he kind of insinuated that Iought to do something about it myself. That made me tired, and I told himto come to you about it. I said you was the boss here now, and I was onlythe foreman of the night shift. "

Until that last sentence Bannon had been only half listening. He made nosign, indeed, of having heard anything, but stood hacking at the pinerailing with his pocket-knife. He was silent so long that at last Petersonarose to go. Bannon shut his knife and wheeled around to face him. 

"Hold on, Pete, " he said. "We'd better talk this business out right here. "

"Talk out what?"

"Oh, I guess you know. Why don't we pull together better? What is ityou're sore about?"

"Nothing. You don't need to worry about it. "

"Look here, Pete. You've known me a good many years. Do you think I'msquare?"

"I never said you wasn't square. "

"You might have given me the benefit of the doubt, anyway. I know youdidn't like my coming down here to take charge. Do you suppose I did? Youwere unlucky, and a man working for MacBride can't afford to be unlucky;so he told me to come and finish the job. And once I was down here he heldme responsible for getting it done. I've got to go ahead just the best Ican. I thought you saw that at first, and that we'd get on all righttogether, but lately it's been different. "

"I thought I'd been working hard enough to satisfy anybody. "

"It ain't that, and you know it ain't. It's just the spirit of the thing. Now, I don't ask you to tell me why it is you feel this way. If you wantto talk it out now, all right. If you don't, all right again. But if youever think I'm not using you right, come to me and say so. Just look atwhat we've got to do here, Pete, before the first of January. Sometimes Ithink we can do it, and sometimes I think we can't, but we've got toanyway. If we don't, MacBride will just make up his mind we're no good. And unless we pull together, we're stuck for sure. It ain't a matter ofwork entirely. I want to feel that I've got you with me. Come around inthe afternoon if you happen to be awake, and fuss around and tell me whatI'm doing wrong. I want to consult you about a good many things in thecourse of a day. "

Pete's face was simply a lens through which one could see the feelings atwork beneath, and Bannon knew that he had struck the right chord at last. "How is it? Does that go?"

"Sure, " said Pete. "I never knew you wanted to consult me about anything, or I'd have been around before. "

Friday afternoon Bannon received a note from Grady saying that if he hadany regard for his own interests or for those of his employers, he woulddo well to meet the writer at ten o'clock Sunday morning at a certaindowntown hotel. It closed with a postscript containing the disinterestedsuggestion that delays were dangerous, and a hint that the writer's timewas valuable and he wished to be informed whether the appointment would bekept or not. 

Bannon ignored the note, and all day Monday expected Grady's appearance atthe office. He did not come, but when Bannon reached his boarding-houseabout eight o'clock that evening, he found Grady in his room waiting forhim. 

"I can't talk on an empty stomach, " said the boss, cheerfully, as he waswashing up. "Just wait till I get some supper. "

"I'll wait, " said Grady, grimly. 

When Bannon came back to talk, he took off his coat and sat down astride achair. "Well, Mr. Grady, when you came here before you said it was to warnme, but the next time you came you were going to begin to act. I'm allready. "

"All right, " said Grady, with a vicious grin. "Be as smart as you like. I'll be paid well for every word of it and for every minute you've kept mewaiting yesterday and tonight. That was the most expensive supper you everate. I thought you had sense enough to come, Mr. Bannon. That's why Iwasted a stamp on you. You made the biggest mistake of your life--"

During the speech Bannon had sat like a man hesitating between two coursesof action. At this point he interrupted:--

"Let's get to business, Mr. Grady. "

"I'll get to it fast enough. And when I do you'll see if you can safelyinsult the representative of the mighty power of the honest workingman ofthis vast land. "

"Well?"

"I hear you folks are in a hurry, Mr. Bannon?"

"Yes. "

"And that you'll spend anything it costs to get through on time. How'd itsuit you to have all your laborers strike about now? Don't that idea makeyou sick?"

"Pretty near. "

"Well, they will strike inside two days. "

"What for? Suppose we settle with them direct. "

"Just try that, " said Grady, with withering sarcasm. "Just try that andsee how it works. "

"I don't want to. I only wanted to hear you confess that you are arascal. "

"You'll pay dear for giving me that name. But we come to that later. Doyou think it would be worth something to the men who hire you for a dirtyslave-driver to be protected against a strike? Wouldn't they be willing topay a round sum to get this work done on time? Take a minute to thinkabout it. Be careful how you tell me they wouldn't. You're not liked here, Mr. Bannon, by anybody--"

"You're threatening to have me recalled, according to your suggestions toMr. Peterson the other night. Well, that's all right if you can do it. ButI think that sooner than recall me or have a strike they would be willingto pay for protection. "

"You do. I didn't look for that much sense in you. If you'd shown itsooner it might have saved your employers a large wad of bills. If you'dtaken the trouble to be decent when I went to you in a friendly way a verylittle would have been enough. But now I've got to be paid. What do yousay to five thousand as a fair sum?"

"They'd be willing to pay fully that to save delay, " said Bannon, cheerfully. 

"They would!" To save his life Grady could not help looking crestfallen. It seemed then that he might have got fifty. "All right, " he went on, "five thousand it is; and I want it in hundred-dollar bills. "

"You do!" cried Bannon, jumping to his feet. "Do you think you're going toget a cent of it? I might pay blackmail to an honest rascal who deliveredthe goods paid for. But I had your size the first time you came around. Don't you think I knew what you wanted? If I'd thought you were worthbuying, I'd have settled it up for three hundred dollars and a box ofcigars right at the start. That's about your market price. But as long asI knew you'd sell us out again if you could, I didn't think you were evenworth the cigars. No; don't tell me what you're going to do. Go out and doit if you can. And get out of here. "

For the second time Bannon took the little delegate by the arm. He marchedhim to the head of the long, straight flight of stairs. Then he hesitateda moment. "I wish you were three sizes larger, " he said. 

CHAPTER XI

The organization of labor unions is generally democratic. The local lodgeis self-governing; it elects its delegate, who attends a council offellow-delegates, and this council may send representatives to a stillmore powerful body. But however high their titles, or their salaries, these dignitaries have power only to suggest action, except in a verylimited variety of cases. There must always be a reference back to therank and file. The real decision lies with them. 

That is the theory. The laborers on Calumet K, with some others at work inthe neighborhood, had organized into a lodge and had affiliated with theAmerican Federation of Labor. Grady, who had appeared out of nowhere, whohad urged upon them the need of combining against the forces ofoppression, and had induced them to organize, had been, without dissent, elected delegate. He was nothing more in theory than this: simply theirconcentrated voice. And this theory had the fond support of the laborers. "He's not our boss; he's our servant, " was a sentiment they never tired ofuttering when the delegate was out of earshot. 

They met every Friday night, debated, passed portentous resolutions, andlistened to Grady's oratory. After the meeting was over they liked to heartheir delegate, their servant, talk mysteriously of the doings of thecouncil, and so well did Grady manage this air of mystery that each manthought it assumed because of the presence of others, but that he himselfwas of the inner circle. They would not have dreamed of questioning hisacts in meeting or after, as they stood about the dingy, reeking hall overBarry's saloon. It was only as they went to their lodgings in groups oftwo and three that they told how much better they could manage thingsthemselves. 

Bannon enjoyed his last conversation with Grady, though it left him a gooddeal to think out afterward. He had acted quite deliberately, had saidnothing that afterward he wished unsaid; but as yet he had not decidedwhat to do next. After he heard the door slam behind the little delegate, he walked back into his room, paced the length of it two or three times, then put on his ulster and went out. He started off aimlessly, paying noattention to whither he was going, and consequently he walked straight tothe elevator. He picked his way across the C. & S. C. Tracks, out to thewharf, and seated himself upon an empty nail keg not far from the end ofthe spouting house. 

He sat there for a long while, heedless of all that was doing about him, turning the situation over and over in his mind. Like a good strategist, he was planning Grady's campaign as carefully as his own. Finally he wasrecalled to his material surroundings by a rough voice which commanded, "Get off that keg and clear out. We don't allow no loafers around here. "

Turning, Bannon recognized one of the under-foremen. "That's a good idea, "he said. "Are you making a regular patrol, or did you just happen to seeme?"

"I didn't know it was you. No, I'm tending to some work here in thespouting house. "

"Do you know where Mr. Peterson is?"

"He was right up here a bit ago. Do you want to see him?"

"Yes, if he isn't busy. I'm not the only loafer here, it seems, " addedBannon, nodding toward where the indistinct figures of a man and a womancould be seen corning slowly toward them along the narrow strip of wharfbetween the building and the water. "Never mind, " he added, as the foremanmade a step in their direction, "I'll look after them myself. "

The moment after he had called the foreman's attention to them he hadrecognized them as Hilda and Max. He walked over to meet them. "We can'tget enough of it in the daytime, can we. "

"It's a great place for a girl, isn't it, Mr. Bannon, " said Max. "I wascoming over here and Hilda made me bring her along. She said she thoughtit must look pretty at night. "

"Doesn't it?" she asked. "Don't you think it does, Mr. Bannon?"

He had been staring at it for half an hour. Now for the first time helooked at it. For ninety feet up into the air the large mass was oneunrelieved, unbroken shadow, barely distinguishable from the night skythat enveloped it. Above was the skeleton of the cupola, made brilliant, fairly dazzling, in contrast, by scores of arc lamps. At that distance andin that confused tangle of light and shadow the great timbers of the framelooked spidery. The effect was that of a luminous crown upon a gigantic, sphinx-like head. 

"I guess you are right, " he said slowly. "But I never thought of it thatway before. And I've done more or less night work, too. "

A moment later Peterson came up. "Having a tea party out here?" he asked;then turning to Bannon: "Was there something special you wanted, Charlie?I've got to go over to the main house pretty soon. "

"It's our friend Grady. He's come down to business at last. He wantsmoney. "

Hilda was quietly signalling Max to come away, and Bannon, observing it, broke off to speak to them. "Don't go, " he said. "We'll have a briefcouncil of war right here. " So Hilda was seated on the nail keg, whileBannon, resting his elbows on the top of a spile which projected waisthigh through the floor of the wharf, expounded the situation. 

"You understand his proposition, " he said, addressing Hilda, rather thaneither of the men. "It's just plain blackmail. He says, 'If you don't wantyour laborers to strike, you'll have to pay my price. '"

"Not much, " Pete broke in. "I'd let the elevator rot before I'd pay a centof blackmail. "

"Page wouldn't, " said Bannon, shortly, "or MacBride, neither. They'd beglad to pay five thousand or so for protection. But they'd want protectionthat would protect. Grady's trying to sell us a gold brick. He hated us tobegin with, and when he'd struck us for about all he thought we'd stand, he'd call the men off just the same, and leave us to waltz the timbersaround all by ourselves. "

"How much did he want?"

"All he could get. I think he'd have been satisfied with a thousand, buthe'd come 'round next week for a thousand more. "

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him that a five-cent cigar was a bigger investment than I cared tomake on him and that when we paid blackmail it would be to some fellowwho'd deliver the goods. I said he could begin to make trouble just assoon as he pleased. "

"Seems to me you might have asked for a few days' time to decide. Then wecould have got something ready to come at him with. He's liable to callour men out tonight, ain't he?"

"I don't think so. I thought of trying to stave him off for a few days, but then I thought, 'Why, he'll see through that game and he'll go on withhis scheme for sewing us up just the same. ' You see, there's no goodsaying we're afraid. So I told him that we didn't mind him a bit; said hecould go out and have all the fun he liked with us. If he thinks we've gotsomething up our sleeve he may be a little cautious. Anyway, he knows thatour biggest rush is coming a little later, and he's likely to wait forit. "

Then Hilda spoke for the first time. "Has he so much power as that? Willthey strike just because he orders them to?"

"Why, not exactly, " said Bannon. "They decide that for themselves, or atleast they think they do. They vote on it. "

"Well, then, " she asked hesitatingly, "why can't you just tell the menwhat Mr. Grady wants you to do and show them that he's dishonest? Theyknow they've been treated all right, don't they?"

Bannon shook his head. "No use, " he said. "You see, these fellows don'tknow much. They aren't like skilled laborers who need some sense in theirbusiness. They're just common roustabouts, and most of 'em have gunpowderin place of brains. They don't want facts or reason either; what they likeis Grady's oratory. They think that's the finest thing they ever heard. They might all be perfectly satisfied and anxious to work, but if Gradywas to sing out to know if they wanted to be slaves, they'd all strikelike a freight train rolling down grade. 

"No, " he went on, "there's nothing to be done with the men. Do you knowwhat would happen if I was to go up to their lodge and tell right out thatGrady was a blackmailer? Why, after they'd got through with me, personally, they'd pass a resolution vindicating Grady. They'd resolvethat I was a thief and a liar and a murderer and an oppressor of the poorand a traitor, and if they could think of anything more than that, they'dput it in, too. And after vindicating Grady to their satisfaction, they'dtake his word for law and the gospel more than ever. In this sort of ascrape you want to hit as high as you can, strike the biggest man who willlet you in his office. It's the small fry that make the trouble. I guessthat's true 'most everywhere. I know the general manager of a railroad isalways an easier chap to get on with than the division superintendent. "

"Well, " said Pete, after waiting a moment to see if Bannon had anydefinite suggestion to make as to the best way to deal with Grady, "I'mglad you don't think he'll try to tie us up tonight. Maybe we'll think ofsomething tomorrow. I've got to get back on the job. "

"I'll go up with you, " said Max, promptly. Then, in answer to Hilda'sgesture of protest, "You don't want to climb away up there tonight. I'llbe back in ten minutes, " and he was gone before she could reply. "I guessI can take care of you till he comes back, " said Bannon. Hilda made noanswer. She seemed to think that silence would conceal her annoyancebetter than anything she could say. So, after waiting a moment, Bannonwent on talking. 

"I suppose that's the reason why I get ugly sometimes and call names;because I ain't a big enough man not to. If I was getting twenty-fivethousand a year maybe I'd be as smooth as anybody. I'd like to be ageneral manager for a while, just to see how it would work. "

"I don't see how anybody could ever know enough to run a railroad. " Hildawas looking up at the C. & S. C. Right of way, where red and whitesemaphore lights were winking. 

"I was offered that job once myself, though, and turned it down, " saidBannon. "I was superintendent of the electric light plant at Yawger. Yawger's quite a place, on a branch of the G. T. There was another road ranthrough the town, called the Bemis, Yawger and Pacific. It went from Bemisto Stiles Corners, a place about six miles west of Yawger. It didn't getany nearer the Pacific than that. Nobody in Yawger ever went to Bemis orStiles, and there wasn't anybody in Bemis and Stiles to come to Yawger, orif they did come they never went back, so the road didn't do a great dealof business. They assessed the stock every year to pay the officers'salaries--and they had a full line of officers, too--but the rest of theroad had to scrub along the best it could. 

"When they elected me alderman from the first ward up at Yawger, I foundout that the B. Y. &P. Owed the city four hundred and thirty dollars, so Itried to find out why they wasn't made to pay. It seemed that the city hadhad a judgment against them for years, but they couldn't get hold ofanything that was worth seizing. They all laughed at me when I said Imeant to get that money out of 'em. 

"The railroad had one train; there was an engine and three box cars and acouple of flats and a combination--that's baggage and passenger. It madethe round trip from Bemis every day, fifty-two miles over all, andconsidering the roadbed and the engine, that was a good day's work. 

"Well, that train was worth four hundred and thirty dollars all rightenough, if they could have got their hands on it, but the engineer wassuch a peppery chap that nobody ever wanted to bother him. But I justbided my time, and one hot day after watering up the engine him and theconductor went off to get a drink. I had a few lengths of log chain handy, and some laborers with picks and shovels, and we made a neat, clean littlejob of it. Then I climbed up into the cab. When the engineer came back andwanted to know what I was doing there, I told him we'd attached his train. 'Don't you try to serve no papers on me, ' he sung out, 'or I'll split yourhead. ' 'There's no papers about this job, ' said I. 'We've attached it tothe track. ' At that he dropped the fire shovel and pulled open thethrottle. The drivers spun around all right, but the train never moved aninch. 

"He calmed right down after that and said he hadn't four hundred andthirty dollars with him, but if I'd let the train go, he'd pay me in aweek. I couldn't quite do that, so him and the conductor had to walk 'wayto Bemis, where the general offices was. They was pretty mad. We had thattrain chained up there for 'most a month, and at last they paid theclaim. "

"Was that the railroad that offered to make you general manager?" Hildaasked. 

"Yes, provided I'd let the train go. I'm glad I didn't take it up, though. You see, the farmers along the road who held the stock in it made up theirminds that the train had quit running for good, so they took up the railswhere it ran across their farms, and used the ties for firewood. That'sall they ever got out of their investment. "

A few moments later Max came back and Bannon straightened up to go. "Iwish you'd tell Pete when you see him tomorrow, " he said to the boy, "thatI won't be on the job till noon. "

"Going to take a holiday?"

"Yes. Tell him I'm taking the rest cure up at a sanitarium. "

At half-past eight next morning Bannon entered the outer office of R. S. Carver, president of the Central District of the American Federation ofLabor, and seated himself on one of the long row of wood-bottomed chairsthat stood against the wall. Most of them were already occupied by poorlydressed men who seemed also to be waiting for the president. One man, indilapidated, dirty finery, was leaning over the stenographer's desk, talking about the last big strike and guessing at the chance of therebeing any fun ahead in the immediate future. But the rest of them waitedin stolid, silent patience, sitting quite still in unbroken rank along thewall, their overcoats, if they had them, buttoned tight around theirchins, though the office was stifling hot. The dirty man who was talkingto the stenographer filled a pipe with some very bad tobacco andostentatiously began smoking it, but not a man followed his example. 

Bannon sat in that silent company for more than an hour before the greatman came. Even then there was no movement among those who sat along thewall, save as they followed him almost furtively with their eyes. Thepresident never so much as glanced at one of them; for all he seemed tosee the rank of chairs might have been empty. He marched across to hisprivate office, and, leaving the door open behind him, sat down before hisdesk. Bannon sat still a moment, waiting for those who had come before himto make the first move, but not a man of them stirred, so, somewhat out ofpatience with this mysteriously solemn way of doing business, he arose andwalked into the president's office with as much assurance as though it hadbeen his own. He shut the door after him. The president did not look up, but went on cutting open his mail. 

"I'm from MacBride & Company, of Minneapolis, " said Bannon. 

"Guess I don't know the parties. "

"Yes, you do. We're building a grain elevator at Calumet. "

The president looked up quickly. "Sit down, " he said. "Are yousuperintending the work?"

"Yes. My name's Bannon--Charles Bannon. "

"Didn't you have some sort of an accident out there? An overloaded hoist?And you hurt a man, I believe. "

"Yes. "

"And I think one of your foremen drew a revolver on a man. "

"I did, myself. "

The president let a significant pause intervene before his next question. "What do you want with me?"

"I want you to help me out. It looks as though we might get into troublewith our laborers. "

"You've come to the wrong man. Mr. Grady is the man for you to talk with. He's their representative. "

"We haven't got on very well with Mr. Grady. The first time he came on thejob he didn't know our rule that visitors must apply at the office, and weweren't very polite to him. He's been down on us ever since. We can't makeany satisfactory agreement with him. "

Carver turned away impatiently. "You'll have to, " he said, "if you want toavoid trouble with your men. It's no business of mine. He's acting ontheir instructions. "

"No, he isn't, " said Bannon, sharply. "What they want, I guess, is to betreated square and paid a fair price. What he wants is blackmail. "

"I've heard that kind of talk before. It's the same howl that an employeralways makes when he's tried to bribe an agent who's active in theinterest of the men, and got left at it. What have you got to show for it?Anything but just your say so?"

Bannon drew out Grady's letter of warning and handed it to him. Carverread it through, then tossed it on his desk. "You certainly don't offerthat as proof that he wants blackmail, Mr. Bannon. "

"There's never any proof of blackmail. When a man can see me alone, heisn't going to talk before witnesses, and he won't commit himself inwriting. Grady told me that unless we paid his price he'd tie us up. Noone else was around when he said it. "

"Then you haven't anything but your say so. But I know him, and I don'tknow you. Do you think I'd take your word against his?"

"That letter doesn't prove blackmail, " said Bannon, "but it smells of it. And there's the same smell about everything Grady has done. When he cameto my office a day or two after that hoist accident, I tried to find outwhat he wanted, and he gave me nothing but oratory. I tried to pin himdown to something definite, but my stenographer was there and Grady didn'thave a suggestion to make. Then by straining his neck and askingquestions, he found out we were in a hurry, that the elevator was no goodunless it was done by January first, and that we had all the money weneeded. 

"Two days after he sent me that letter. Look at it again. Why does he wantto take both of us to Chicago on Sunday morning, when he can see me anytime at my office on the job?" Bannon spread the letter open beforeCarver's face. "Why doesn't he say right here what it is he wants, if it'sanything he dares to put in black and white? I didn't pay any attention tothat letter; it didn't deserve any. And then will you tell me why he cameto my room at night to see me instead of to my office in the daytime? Ican prove that he did. Does all that look as if I tried to bribe him?Forget that we're talking about Grady, and tell me what you think it lookslike. "

Carver was silent for a moment. "That wouldn't do any good, " he said atlast. "If you had proof that I could act on, I might be able to help you. I haven't any jurisdiction in the internal affairs of that lodge; but ifyou could offer proof that he is what you say he is, I could tell themthat if they continued to support him, the federation withdraws itssupport. But I don't see that I can help you as it is. I don't see anyreason why I should. "

"I'll tell you why you should. Because if there's any chance that whatI've said is true, it will be a lot better for your credit to have thething settled quietly. And it won't be settled quietly if we have tofight. It isn't very much you have to do; just satisfy yourself as to howthings are going down there. See whether we're square, or Grady is. Thenwhen the scrap comes on you'll know how to act. That's all. Do yourinvestigating in advance. "

"That's just what I haven't any right to do. I can't mix up in thebusiness till it comes before me in the regular way. "

"Well, " said Bannon, with a smile, "if you can't do it yourself, maybesome man you have confidence in would do it for you. "

Carver drummed thoughtfully on his desk for a few minutes. Then hecarefully folded Grady's letter and put it in his pocket. "I'm glad tohave met you, Mr. Bannon, " he said, holding out his hand. "Good morning. "

Next morning while Bannon was opening his mail, a man came to thetimekeeper's window and asked for a job as a laborer. "Guess we've got menenough, " said Max. "Haven't we, Mr. Bannon?"

The man put his head in the window. "A fellow down in Chicago told me ifI'd come out here to Calumet K and ask Mr. Bannon for a job, he'd give meone. "

"Are you good up high?" Bannon asked. 

The man smiled ruefully, and said he was afraid not. 

"Well, then, " returned Bannon, "we'll have to let you in on the groundfloor. What's your name?"

"James. "

"Go over to the tool house and get a broom. Give him a check, Max. "

CHAPTER XII

On the twenty-second of November Bannon received this telegram:--

MR. CHARLES BANNON, care of MacBride & Company, South Chicago:

We send today complete drawings for marine tower which you will build inthe middle of spouting house. Harahan Company are building the Leg. 

MACBRIDE & Co. 

Bannon read it carefully, folded it, opened it and read it again, thentossed it on the desk. "We're off now, for sure, " he said to Miss Vogel. "I've known that was coming sure as Christmas. "

Hilda picked it up. 

"Is there an answer, Mr. Bannon?"

"No, just file it. Do you make it out?"

She read it and shook her head. Bannon ignored her cool manner. 

"It means that your friends on MacBride & Company's Calumet house aregoing to have the time of their lives for the next few weeks. I'm going tocarry compressed food in my pockets, and when meal time comes around, justtake a capsule. "

"I think I know, " she said slowly; "a marine leg is the thing that takesgrain up out of ships. "

"That's right. You'd better move up head. "

"And we've been building a spouting house instead to load it into ships. "

"We'll have to build both now. You see, it's getting around to the timewhen the Pages'll be having a fit every day until the machinery's running, and every bin is full. And every time they have a fit, the people up atthe office'll have another, and they'll pass it on to us. "

"But why do they want the marine leg?" she asked, "any more now than theydid at first?"

"They've got to get the wheat down by boat instead of rail, that's all. Orlikely it'll be coming both ways. There's no telling now what's behind it. Both sides have got big men fighting. You've seen it in the papers, haven't you?"

She nodded. 

"Of course, what the papers say isn't all true, but it's lively doings allright. "

The next morning's mail brought the drawings and instructions; and withthem came a letter from Brown to Bannon. "I suppose there's not much goodin telling you to hurry, " it ran; "but if there is another minute a dayyou can crowd in, I guess you know what to do with it. Page told me todaythat this elevator will make or break them. Mr. MacBride says that you canhave all January for a vacation if you get it through. We owe you twoweeks off, anyhow, that you didn't take last summer. We're running downthat C. & S. C. Business, though I don't believe, myself, that they'llgive you any more trouble. "

Bannon read it to Hilda, saying as he laid it down:--

"That's something like. I don't know where'll I go, though. Winter ain'texactly the time for a vacation, unless you go shooting, and I'm no handfor that. "

"Couldn't you put it off till summer?" she asked, smiling a little. 

"Not much. You don't know those people. By the time summer'd come around, they'd have forgotten I ever worked here. I'd strike for a month and Brownwould grin and say: 'That's all right, Bannon, you deserve it if anybodydoes. It'll take a week or so to get your pass arranged, and you mightjust run out to San Francisco and see if things are going the way theyought to. ' And then the first thing I knew I'd be working three shiftssomewhere over in China, and Brown would be writing me I was putting intoo much time at my meals. No, if MacBride & Company offer you a holiday, the best thing you can do is to grab it, and run, and saw off thetelegraph poles behind you. And you couldn't be sure of yourself then. "

He turned the letter over in his hand. 

"I might go up on the St. Lawrence, " he went on. "That's the only placefor spending the winter that ever struck me. "

"Isn't it pretty cold?"

"It ain't so bad. I was up there last winter. We put up at a house atCoteau, you know. When I got there the foundation wasn't even begun, andwe had a bad time getting laborers, I put in the first day sitting on theice sawing off spiles. "

Hilda laughed. 

"I shouldn't think you'd care much about going back. "

"Were you ever there?" he asked. 

"No, I've never been anywhere but home and here, in Chicago. "

"Where is your home?"

"It was up in Michigan. That's where Max learned the lumber business. Buthe and I have been here for nearly two years. "

"Well, " said Bannon, "some folks may think it's cold up there, but thereain't anywhere else to touch it. It's high ground, you know--nothing likethis"--he swept his arm about to indicate the flats outside--"and thescenery beats anything this side of the Rockies. It ain't that there'smountains there, you understand, but it's all big and open, and they'vegot forests there that would make your Michigan pine woods look like weedson a sandhill. And the river's great. You haven't seen anything reallyfine till you've seen the rapids in winter. The people there have a goodtime too. They know how to enjoy life--it isn't all grime and sweat andmaking money. "

"Well, " said Hilda, looking down at her pencil and drawing aimless designsas she talked, "I suppose it is a good place to go. I've seen thepictures, of course, in the timetables; and one of the railroad offices onClark Street used to have some big photographs of the St. Lawrence in thewindow. I looked at them sometimes, but I never thought of really seeinganything like that. I've had some pretty good times on the lake and overat St. Joe. Max used to take me over to Berrien Springs last summer, whenhe could get off. My aunt lives there. "

Bannon was buttoning his coat, and looking at her. He felt the differenttone that had got into their talk. It had been impersonal a few minutesbefore. 

"Oh, St. Joe isn't bad, " he was saying; "it's quiet and restful and allthat, but it's not the same sort of thing at all. You go over there andride up the river on the May Graham, and it makes you feel lazy andcomfortable, but it doesn't stir you up inside like the St. Lawrencedoes. "

She looked up. Her eyes were sparkling as they had sparkled that afternoonon the elevator when she first looked out into the sunset. 

"Yes, " she replied. "I think I know what you mean. But I never really feltthat way; I've only thought about it. "

Bannon turned half away, as if to go. 

"You'll have to go down there, that's all, " he said abruptly. He lookedback at her over his shoulder, and added, "That's all there is about it. "

Her eyes were half startled, half mischievous, for his voice had beenstill less impersonal than before. Then she turned back to her work, herface sober, but an amused twinkle lingering in her eyes. 

"I should like to go, " she said, her pencil poised at the top of a longcolumn. "Max would like it, too. "

After supper that evening Max returned early from a visit to the injuredman, and told Hilda of a new trouble. 

"Do you know that little delegate that's been hanging around?" he asked. 

"Grady, " she said, and nodded. 

"Yes, he's been working the man. I never saw such a change in my life. Hejust sat up there in bed and swore at me, and said I needn't think I couldbuy him off with this stuff"--he looked down and Hilda saw that the bowlin his hand was not empty--"and raised a row generally. "

"Why?" she asked. 

"Give it up. From what he said, I'm sure Grady's behind it. "

"Did he give his name?"

"No, but he did a lot of talking about justice to the down-trodden and thepower of the unions, and that kind of stuff. I couldn't understand all hesaid--he's got a funny lingo, you know; I guess it's Polack--but I gotenough to know what he meant, and more, too. "

"Can he do anything?"

"I don't think so. If we get after him, it'll just set him worse'n pig'sbristles. A man like that'll lose his head over nothing. He may be allright in the morning. "

But Hilda, after Max had given her the whole conversation as nearly as hecould remember it, thought differently. She did not speak her mind out toMax, because she was not yet certain what was the best course to take. Theman could easily make trouble, she saw that. But if Max were to lay thematter before Bannon, he would be likely to glide over some of the detailsthat she had got only by close questioning. And a blunder in handling itmight be fatal to the elevator, so far as getting it done in December wasconcerned. Perhaps she took it too seriously; for she was beginning, inspite of herself, to give a great deal of thought to the work and toBannon. At any rate, she lay awake later than usual that night, going overthe problem, and she brought it up, the next morning, the first time thatBannon came into the office after Max had gone out. 

"Mr. Bannon, " she said, when he had finished dictating a letter to theoffice, "I want to tell you about that man that was hurt. "

Bannon tried not to smile at the nervous, almost breathless way in whichshe opened the conversation. He saw that, whatever it was, it seemed toher very important, and he settled comfortably on the table, leaning backagainst the wall with his legs stretched out before him. She had turned onher stool. 

"You mean the hoist man?" he asked. 

She nodded. "Max goes over to see him sometimes. We've been trying to helpmake him comfortable--"

"Oh, " said Bannon; "it's you that's been sending those things around tohim. "

She looked at him with surprise. 

"Why, how did you know?"

"I heard about it. "

Hilda hesitated. She did not know exactly how to begin. It occurred to herthat perhaps Bannon was smiling at her eager manner. 

"Max was there last night and he said the man had changed all around. He'sbeen friendly, you know, and grateful"--she had forgotten herself again, in thinking of her talk with Max--"and he's said all the time that hewasn't going to make trouble--" She paused. 

"Yes, I know something about that, " said Bannon. "The lawyers always getafter a man that's hurt, you know. "

"But last night he had changed all around. He said he was going to haveyou arrested. He thinks Max has been trying to buy him off with the thingswe've sent him. "

Bannon whistled. 

"So our Mr. Grady's got his hands on him!"

"That's what Max and I thought, but he didn't give any names. He wouldn'ttake the jelly. "

"I'm glad you told me, " said Bannon, swinging his legs around and sittingup. "It's just as well to know about these things. Grady's made him thinkhe can make a good haul by going after me, poor fool--he isn't the manthat'll get it. "

"Can he really stop the work?" Hilda asked anxiously. 

"Not likely. He'll probably try to make out a case of criminalcarelessness against me, and get me jerked up. He ought to have moresense, though. I know how many sticks were on that hoist when it broke. I'll drop around there tonight after dinner and have a talk with him. I'dlike to find Grady there--but that's too good to expect. "

Hilda had stepped down from the stool, and was looking out through thehalf-cleaned window at a long train of freight cars that was clanking inon the Belt Line. 

"That's what I wanted to see you about most, " she said slowly. "Max sayshe's been warned that you'll come around and try to buy him off, and itwon't go, because he can make more by standing out. "

"Well, " said Bannon, easily, amused at her unconscious drop into Max'slanguage, "there's usually a way of getting after these fellows. We'll doanything within reason, but we won't be robbed. I'll throw Mr. Grady intothe river first, and hang him up on the hoist to dry. "

"But if he really means to stand out. " she said, "wouldn't it hurt us foryou to go around there?"

"Why?" He was openly smiling now. Then, of a sudden, he looked at her witha shrewd, close gaze, and repeated, "Why?"

"Maybe I don't understand it, " she said nervously. "Max doesn't think Isee things very clearly. But I thought perhaps you would be willing for meto see him this evening. I could go with Max, and--"

She faltered, when she saw how closely he was watching her, but he nodded, and said, "Go on. "

"Why, I don't know that I could do much, but--no"--she tossed her headback and looked at him--"I won't say that. If you'll let me go, I'll fixit. I know I can. "

Bannon was thinking partly of her--of her slight, graceful figure thatleaned against the window frame, and of her eyes, usually quiet, but nowsnapping with determination--and partly of certain other jobs that hadbeen imperiled by the efforts of injured workingmen to get heavy damages. One of the things his experience in railroad and engineering work hadtaught him was that men will take every opportunity to bleed acorporation. No matter how slight the accident, or how temporary in itseffects, the stupidest workman has it in his power to make trouble. It wasfrankly not a matter of sentiment to Bannon. He would do all that hecould, would gladly make the man's sickness actually profit him, so far asmoney would go; but he did not see justice in the great sums which theaverage jury will grant. As he sat there, he recognized what Hilda hadseen at a flash, that this was a case for delicate handling. 

She was looking at him, tremendously in earnest, yet all the whilewondering at her own boldness. He slowly nodded. 

"You're right, " he said. "You're the one to do the talking. I won't askyou what you're going to say. I guess you understand it as well asanybody. "

"I don't know yet, myself, " she answered. "It isn't that, it isn't thatthere's something particular to say, but he's a poor man, and they've beentelling him that the company is cheating him and stealing from him--Iwouldn't like it myself, if I were in his place and didn't know any morethan he does. And maybe I can show him that we'll be a good deal fairer tohim before we get through than Mr. Grady will. "

"Yes, " said Bannon, "I think you can. And if you can keep this out of thecourts I'll write Brown that there's a young lady down here that's comenearer to earning a big salary than I ever did to deserving a silk hat. "

"Oh, " she said, the earnest expression skipping abruptly out of her eyes;"did your hat come?"

"Not a sign of it. I'd clean forgotten. I'll give Brown one more warning--a long 'collect' telegram, about forty words--and then if he doesn't toeup, I'll get one and send him the bill. 

"There was a man that looked some like Grady worked for me on theGalveston house. He was a carpenter, and thought he stood for the wholeFederation of Labor. He got gay one day. I warned him once, and then Ithrew him off the distributing floor. "

Hilda thought he was joking until she looked up and saw his face. 

"Didn't it--didn't it kill him?" she asked. 

"I don't remember exactly. I think there were some shavings there. " Hestood looking at her for a moment. "Do you know, " he said, "if Grady comesup on the job again, I believe I'll tell him that story? I wonder if he'dknow what I meant. "

The spouting house, or "river house, " was a long, narrow structure, onehundred feet by thirty-six, built on piles at the edge of the wharf. Itwould form, with the connecting belt gallery that was to reach out overthe tracks, a T-shaped addition to the elevator. The river house was nohigher than was necessary for the spouts that would drop the grain throughthe hatchways of the big lake steamers, twenty thousand bushels an hour--it reached between sixty and seventy feet above the water. The marinetower that was to be built, twenty-four feet square, up through the centreof the house, would be more than twice as high. A careful examinationconvinced Bannon that the pile foundations would prove strong enough tosupport this heavier structure, and that the only changes necessary wouldbe in the frame of the spouting house. On the same day that the plansarrived, work on the tower commenced. 

Peterson had about got to the point where startling developments no longeralarmed him. He had seen the telegram the day before, but his firstinformation that a marine tower was actually under way came when Bannoncalled off a group of laborers late in the afternoon to rig the "trolley"for carrying timber across the track. 

"What are you going to do, Charlie?" he called. "Got to slide them timbersback again?"

"Some of 'em, " Bannon replied. 

"Don't you think we could carry 'em over?" said Peterson. "If we was quietabout it, they needn't be any trouble?"

Bannon shook his head. 

"We're not taking any more chances on this railroad. We haven't time. "

Once more the heavy timbers went swinging through the air, high over thetracks, but this time back to the wharf. Before long the section boss ofthe C. & S. C. Appeared, and though he soon went away, one of his menremained, lounging about the tracks, keeping a close eye on the saggingropes and the timbers. Bannon, when he met Peterson a few minutes later, pointed out the man. 

"What'd I tell you, Pete? They're watching us like cats. If you want toknow what the C. & S. C. Think about us, you just drop one timber andyou'll find out. "

But nothing dropped, and when Peterson, who had been on hand all thelatter part of the afternoon, took hold, at seven o'clock, the firsttimbers of the tower had been set in place, somewhere down inside therough shed of a spouting house, and more would go in during the night, andduring other days and nights, until the narrow framework should goreaching high into the air. Another thing was recognized by the men atwork on that night shift, even by the laborers who carried timbers, andgrunted and swore in strange tongues; this was that the night shift menhad suddenly begun to feel a most restless energy crowding them on, andthey worked nearly as well as Bannon's day shifts. For Peterson's spiritshad risen with a leap, once the misunderstanding that had been weighing onhim had been removed, and now he was working as he had never workedbefore. The directions he gave showed that his head was clearer; and therewas confidence in his manner. 

Hilda was so serious all day after her talk with Bannon that once, in theafternoon, when he came into the office for a glance at the new pile ofblue prints, he smiled, and asked if she were laying out a campaign. Itwas the first work of the kind that she had ever undertaken, and she was alittle worried over the need for tact and delicacy. After she had closedher desk at supper time, she saw Bannon come into the circle of theelectric light in front of the office, and, asking Max to wait, she wentto meet him. 

"Well, " he said, "are you loaded up to fight the 'power of the union'?"

She smiled, and then said, with a trace of nervousness:--

"I don't believe I'm quite so sure about it as I was this morning. "

"It won't bother you much. When you've made him see that we're square andGrady isn't, you've done the whole business. We won't pay fancy damages, that's all. "

"Yes, " she said, "I think I know. What I wanted to see you about was--was--Max and I are going over right after supper, and--"

She stopped abruptly; and Bannon, looking down at her, saw a look ofembarrassment come into her face; and then she blushed, and lowering hereyes, fumbled with her glove. Bannon was a little puzzled. His eyes restedon her for a moment, and then, without understanding why, he suddenly knewthat she had meant to ask him to see her after the visit, and that the newpersonal something in their acquaintance had flashed a warning. He spokequickly, as if he were the first to think of it. 

"If you don't mind, I'll come around tonight and hear the report of thecommittee of adjusters. That's you, you know. Something might come up thatI ought to know right away. "

"Yes, " she replied rapidly, without looking up, "perhaps that would be thebest thing to do. "

He walked along with her toward the office, where Max was waiting, but shedid not say anything, and he turned in with: "I won't say good-night, then. Good luck to you. "

It was soon after eight that Bannon went to the boarding-house where Hildaand Max lived, and sat down to wait in the parlor. When a quarter of anhour had gone, and they had not returned, he buttoned up his coat and wentout, walking slowly along the uneven sidewalk toward the river. The nightwas clear, and he could see, across the flats and over the tracks, wheretiny signal lanterns were waving and circling, and freight trains werebumping and rumbling, the glow of the arc lamps on the elevator, and itssquare outline against the sky. Now and then, when the noise of theswitching trains let down, he could hear the hoisting engines. Once hestopped and looked eastward at the clouds of illuminated smoke above thefactories and at the red blast of the rolling mill. He went nearly to theriver and had to turn back and walk slowly. Finally he heard Max's laugh, and then he saw them coming down a side street. 

"Well, " he said, "you don't sound like bad news. "

"I don't believe we are very bad, " replied Hilda. 

"Should say not, " put in Max. "It's finer'n silk. "

Hilda said, "Max, " in a low voice, but he went on:--

"The best thing, Mr. Bannon, was when I told him it was Hilda that hadbeen sending things around. He thought it was you, you see, and Grady'dtold him it was all a part of the game to bamboozle him out of the moneythat was rightfully his. It's funny to hear him sling that Grady talkaround. I don't think he more'n half knows what it means. I'd promised notto tell, you know, but I just saw there wasn't no use trying to make himunderstand things without talking pretty plain. There ain't a thing hewouldn't do for Hilda now--"

"Max, " said Hilda again, "please don't. "

When they reached the house, Max at once started in. Hilda hesitated, andthen said:--

"I'll come in a minute, Max. "

"Oh, " he replied, "all right. " But he waited a moment longer, evidentlypuzzled. 

"Well, " said Bannon, "was it so hard?"

"No--not hard exactly. I didn't know he was so poor. Somehow you don'tthink about it that way when you see them working. I don't know that Iever thought about it at all before. "

"You think he won't give us any trouble?"

"I'm sure he won't. I--I had to promise I'd go again pretty soon. "

"Maybe you'll let me go along. "

"Why--why, yes, of course. "

She had been hesitating, looking down and picking at the splinters on thegate post. Neither was Bannon quick to speak. He did not want to questionher about the visit, for he saw that it was hard for her to talk about it. Finally she straightened up and looked at him. 

"I want to tell you, " she said, "I haven't understood exactly untiltonight--what they said about the accident and the way you've talked aboutit--well, some people think you don't think very much about the men, andthat if anybody's hurt, or anything happens, you don't care as long as thework goes on. " She was looking straight at him. "I thought so, too. Andtonight I found out some things you've been doing for him--how you've beengiving him tobacco, and the things he likes best that I'd never havethought of, and I knew it was you that did it, and not the Company--andI--I beg your pardon. "

Bannon did not know what to reply. They stood for a moment withoutspeaking, and then she smiled, and said "Good night, " and ran up the stepswithout looking around. 

CHAPTER XIII

It was the night of the tenth of December. Three of the four stories ofthe cupola were building, and the upright posts were reaching toward thefourth. It still appeared to be a confused network of timbers, with onlythe beginnings of walls, but as the cupola walls are nothing but a shellof light boards to withstand the wind, the work was further along thanmight have been supposed. Down on the working story the machinery wasnearly all in, and up here in the cupola the scales and garners were goinginto place as rapidly as the completing of the supporting frameworkpermitted. The cupola floors were not all laid. If you had stood on thedistributing floor, over the tops of the bins, you might have looked notonly down through a score of openings between plank areas and piles oftimbers, into black pits, sixteen feet square by seventy deep, but upwardthrough a grill of girders and joists to the clear sky. Everywhere menswarmed over the work, and the buzz of the electric lights and the soundsof hundreds of hammers blended into a confused hum. 

If you had walked to the east end of the building, here and therebalancing along a plank or dodging through gangs of laborers and aroundmoving timbers, you would have seen stretching from off a point nothalfway through to the ground, the annex bins, rising so steadily that itwas a matter only of a few weeks before they would be ready to receivegrain. Now another walk, this time across the building to the north side, would show you the river house, out there on the wharf, and the marinetower rising up through the middle with a single arc lamp on the topmostgirder throwing a mottled, checkered shadow on the wharf and the waterbelow. 

At a little after eight o'clock, Peterson, who had been looking at thestairway, now nearly completed, came out on the distributing floor. He wasin good spirits, for everything was going well, and Bannon had franklycredited him, of late, with the improvement in the work of the nightshifts. He stood looking up through the upper floors of the cupola, and hedid not see Max until the timekeeper stood beside him. 

"Hello, Max, " he said. "We'll have the roof on here in another ten days. "

Max followed Peterson's glance upward. 

"I guess that's right. It begins to look as if things was coming 'roundall right. I just come up from the office. Mr. Bannon's there. He'll be upbefore long, he says. I was a-wondering if maybe I hadn't ought to go backand tell him about Grady. He's around, you know. "

"Who? Grady?"

"Yes. Him and another fellow was standing down by one of the cribbin'piles. I was around there on the way up. "

"What was they doing?"

"Nothing. Just looking on. "

Peterson turned to shout at some laborers, then he pushed back his hat andscratched his head. 

"I don't know but what you'd ought to 'a' told Charlie right off. That manGrady don't mean us no good. "

"I know it, but I wasn't just sure. "

"Well, I'll tell you--"

Before Peterson could finish, Max broke in:--

"That's him. "

"Where?"

"That fellow over there, walking along slow. He's the one that was withGrady. "

"I'd like to know what he thinks he's doing here. " Peterson startedforward, adding, "I guess I know what to say to him. "

"Hold on, Pete, " said Max, catching his arm. "Maybe we'd better speak toMr. Bannon. I'll go down and tell him, and you keep an eye on thisfellow. "

Peterson reluctantly assented, and Max walked slowly away, now and thenpausing to look around at the men. But when he had nearly reached thestairway, where he could slip behind the scaffolding about the only scalehopper that had reached a man's height above the floor, he moved morerapidly. He met Bannon on the stairway, and told him what he had seen. Bannon leaned against the wall of the stairway bin, and looked thoughtful. 

"So he's come, has he?" was his only comment. "You might speak to Pete, Max, and bring him here. I'll wait. "

Max and Peterson found him looking over the work of the carpenters. 

"I may not be around much tonight, " he said, with a wink, "but I'd like tosee both of you tomorrow afternoon some time. Can you get around aboutfour o'clock, Pete?"

"Sure, " the night boss replied. 

"We've got some thinking to do about the work, if we're going to put itthrough. I'll look for you at four o'clock then, in the office. " Hestarted down the stairs. "I'm going home now. "

"Why, " said Peterson, "you only just come. "

Bannon paused and looked back over his shoulder. The light came fromdirectly overhead, and the upper part of his face was in the shadow of hishat brim, but Max, looking closely at him, thought that he winked again. 

"I wanted to tell you, " the foreman went on; "Grady's come around, youknow--and another fellow--"

"Yes, Max told me. I guess they won't hurt you. Good night. "

As he went on down he passed a group of laborers who were bringingstairway material to the carpenters. 

"I don't know but what you was talking pretty loud, " said Max to Peterson, in a low voice. "Here's some of 'em now. "

"They didn't hear nothing, " Peterson replied, and the two went back to thedistributing floor. They stood in a shadow, by the scale hopper, waitingfor the reappearance of Grady's companion. He had evidently gone on to theupper floors, where he could not be distinguished from the many othermoving figures; but in a few minutes he came back, walking deliberatelytoward the stairs. He looked at Peterson and Max, but passed by without asecond glance, and descended. Peterson stood looking after him. 

"Now, I'd like to know what Charlie meant by going home, " he said. 

Max had been thinking hard. Finally he said:--

"Say, Pete, we're blind. "

"Why?"

"Did you think he was going home?"

Peterson looked at him, but did not reply. 

"Because he ain't. "

"Well, you heard what he said. "

"What does that go for? He was winking when he said it. He wasn't going tostand there and tell the laborers all about it, like we was trying to do. I'll bet he ain't very far off. "

"I ain't got a word to say, " said Peterson. "If he wants to leave Grady tome, I guess I can take care of him. "

Max had come to the elevator for a short visit--he liked to watch the workat night--but now he settled down to stay, keeping about the hopper wherehe could see Grady if his head should appear at the top of the stairs. Something told him that Bannon saw deeper into Grady's manoeuvres thaneither Peterson or himself, and while he could not understand, yet he wasbeginning to think that Grady would appear before long, and that Bannonknew it. 

Sure enough, only a few minutes had gone when Max turned back from aglance at the marine tower and saw the little delegate standing on the topstep, looking about the distributing floor and up through the girdersoverhead, with quick, keen eyes. Then Max understood what it all meant:Grady had chosen a time when Bannon was least likely to be on the job; andhad sent the other man ahead to reconnoitre. It meant mischief--Max couldsee that; and he felt a boy's nervousness at the prospect of excitement. He stepped farther back into the shadow. 

Grady was looking about for Peterson; when he saw his burly figureoutlined against a light at the farther end of the building, he walkeddirectly toward him, not pausing this time to talk to the laborers or tolook at them. Max, moving off a little to one side, followed, and reachedPeterson's side just as Grady, his hat pushed back on his head and hisfeet apart, was beginning to talk. 

"I had a little conversation with you the other day, Mr. Peterson. Icalled to see you in the interests of the men, the men that are workingfor you--working like galley slaves they are, every man of them. It'sshameful to a man that's seen how they've been treated by the niggerdrivers that stands over them day and night. " He was speaking in a loudvoice, with the fluency of a man who is carefully prepared. There was noneof the bitterness or the ugliness in his manner that had slipped out inhis last talk with Bannon, for he knew that a score of laborers werewithin hearing, and that his words would travel, as if by wire, from mouthto mouth about the building and the grounds below. "I stand here, Mr. Peterson, the man chosen by these slaves of yours, to look after theirrights. I do not ask you to treat them with kindness, I do not ask thatyou treat them as gentlemen. What do I ask? I demand what's accorded tothem by the Constitution of the United States and the Declaration ofIndependence, that says even a nigger has more rights than you've given tothese men, the men that are putting money into your pocket, and Mr. Bannon's pocket, and the corporation's pocket, by the sweat of theirbrows. Look at them; will you look at them?" He waved his arm toward thenearest group, who had stopped working and were listening; and then, placing a cigar in his mouth and tilting it upward, he struck a match andsheltered it in his hands, looking over it for a moment at Peterson. 

The night boss saw by this time that Grady meant business, that his speechwas preliminary to something more emphatic, and he knew that he ought tostop it before the laborers should be demoralized. 

"You can't do that here, Mister, " said Max, over Peterson's shoulder, indicating the cigar. 

Grady still held the match, and looked impudently across the tip of hiscigar. Peterson took it up at once. 

"You'll have to drop that, " he said. "There's no smoking on this job. "

The match had gone out, and Grady lighted another. 

"So that's one of your rules, too?" he said, in the same loud voice. "It'sa wonder you let a man eat. "

Peterson was growing angry. His voice rose as he talked. 

"I ain't got time to talk to you, " he said. "The insurance company saysthere can't be no smoking here. If you want to know why, you'd better askthem. "

Grady blew out the match and returned the cigar to his pocket, with an airof satisfaction that Peterson could not make out. 

"That's all right, Mr. Peterson. I didn't come here to make trouble. Icome here as a representative of these men"--he waved again toward thelaborers--"and I say right here, that if you'd treated them right in thefirst place, I wouldn't be here at all. I've wanted you to have a fairshow. I've put up with your mean tricks and threats and insults ever sinceyou begun--and why? Because I wouldn't delay you and hurt the work. It'sthe industries of today, the elevators and railroads, and the work ofstrong men like these that's the bulwark of America's greatness. But whatdo I get in return, Mister Peterson? I come up here as a gentleman andtalk to you. I treat you as a gentleman. I overlook what you've showedyourself to be. And how do you return it? By talking like the blackguardyou are--you knock an innocent cigar--"

"Your time's up!" said Pete, drawing a step nearer. "Come to business, orclear out. That's all I've got to say to you. "

"All right, Mister Peterson--all right. I'll put up with your insults. Ican afford to forget myself when I look about me at the heavier burdensthese men have to bear, day and night. Look at that--look at it, and thentry to talk to me. "

He pointed back toward the stairs where a gang of eight laborers werecarrying a heavy timber across the shadowy floor. 

"Well, what about it?" said Pete, with half-controlled rage. 

"What about it! But never mind. I'm a busy man myself. I've got no moretime to waste on the likes of you. Take a good look at that, and thenlisten to me. That's the last stick of timber that goes across this flooruntil you put a runway from the hoist to the end of the building. Andevery stick that leaves the runway has got to go on a dolly. Mark my wordsnow--I'm talking plain. My men don't lift another pound of timber on thishouse--everything goes on rollers. I've tried to be a patient man, butyou've run against the limit. You've broke the last back you'll have achance at. " He put his hand to his mouth as if to shout at the gang, butdropped it and faced around. "No, I won't stop them. I'll be fair to thelast. " He pulled out his watch. "I'll give you one hour from now. At teno'clock, if your runway and the dollies ain't working, the men go out. Andthe next time I see you, I won't be so easy. "

He turned away, waved to the laborers, with an, "All right, boys; goahead, " and walked grandly toward the stairway. 

Max whistled. 

"I'd like to know where Charlie is, " said Peterson. 

"He ain't far. I'll find him;" and Max hurried away. 

Bannon was sitting in the office chair with his feet on thedraughting-table, figuring on the back of a blotter. The light from thewall lamp was indistinct, and Bannon had to bend his head forward to seethe figures. He did not look up when the door opened and Max came to therailing gate. 

"Grady's been up on the distributing floor, " said Max, breathlessly, forhe had been running. 

"What did he want?"

"He's going to call the men off at ten o'clock if we don't put in a runwayand dollies on the distributing floor. "

Bannon looked at his watch. 

"Is that all he wants?"

Max, in his excitement, did not catch the sarcasm in the question. 

"That's all he said, but it's enough. We can't do it. "

Bannon closed his watch with a snap. 

"No, " he said, "and we won't throw away any good time trying. You'd betterround up the committee that's supposed to run this lodge and send themhere. That young Murphy's one of them--he can put you straight. Bring Peteback with you, and the new man, James. "

Max lingered, with a look of awe and admiration. 

"Are you going to stand out, Mr. Bannon?" he asked. 

Bannon dropped his feet to the floor, and turned toward the table. 

"Yes, " he said. "We're going to stand out. "

Since Bannon's talk with President Carver a little drama had been going onin the local lodge, a drama that neither Bannon, Max, nor Peterson knewabout. James had been selected by Carver for this work because of provedability and shrewdness. He had no sooner attached himself to the lodge, and made himself known as an active member, than his personality, withoutany noticeable effort on his part, began to make itself felt. Up to thistime Grady had had full swing, for there had been no one among thelaborers with force enough to oppose him. 

The first collision took place at an early meeting after Grady's last talkwith Bannon. The delegate, in the course of the meeting, bitterly attackedBannon, accusing him, at the climax of his oration, of an attempt to buyoff the honest representative of the working classes for five thousanddollars. This had a tremendous effect on the excitable minds before him. He finished his speech with an impassioned tirade against the corruptinfluences of the money power, and was mopping his flushed face, listeningwith elation to the hum of anger that resulted, confident that he had madehis point, when James arose. The new man was as familiar with the tone ofthe meetings of laborers as Grady himself. At the beginning he had no wishfurther than to get at the truth. Grady had not stated his case well. Ithad convinced the laborers, but to James it had weak points. He askedGrady a few pointed questions, that, had the delegate felt the truthbehind him, should not have been hard to answer. But Grady was still underthe spell of his own oratory, and in attempting to get his feet back onthe ground, he bungled. James did not carry the discussion beyond thepoint where Grady, in the bewilderment of recognizing this new element inthe lodge, lost his temper, but when he sat down, the sentiment of themeeting had changed. Few of those men could have explained their feelings;it was simply that the new man was stronger than they were, perhaps asstrong as Grady, and they were influenced accordingly. 

There was no decision for a strike at that meeting. Grady, cunning at thebusiness, immediately dropped open discussion, and, smarting under thesense of lost prestige, set about regaining his position by well-plannedtalk with individual laborers. This went on, largely without James'knowledge, until Grady felt sure that a majority of the men were back inhis control. This time he was determined to carry through the strikewithout the preliminary vote of the men. It was a bold stroke, butboldness was needed to defeat Charlie Bannon; and nobody knew better thanGrady that a dashing show of authority would be hard for James or any oneelse to resist. 

And so he had come on the job this evening, at a time when he supposedBannon safe in bed, and delivered his ultimatum. Not that he had any hopeof carrying the strike through without some sort of a collision with theboss, but he well knew that an encounter after the strike had gatheredmomentum would be easier than one before. Bannon might be able to outwitan individual, even Grady himself, but he would find it hard to makeheadway against an angry mob. And now Grady was pacing stiffly about theBelt Line yards, while the minute hand of his watch crept around towardten o'clock. Even if Bannon should be called within the hour, a few fierywords to those sweating gangs on the distributing floor should carry theday. But Grady did not think that this would be necessary. He was still inthe mistake of supposing that Peterson and the boss were at cuts, and hehad arrived, by a sort of reasoning that seemed the keenest strategy, atthe conclusion that Peterson would take the opportunity to settle thematter himself. In fact, Grady had evolved a neat little campaign, and hewas proud of himself. 

Bannon did not have to wait long. Soon there was a sound of feet outsidethe door, and after a little hesitation, six laborers entered, five ofthem awkwardly and timidly, wondering what was to come. Peterson followed, with Max, and closed the door. The members of the committee stood in astraggling row at the railing, looking at each other and at the floor andceiling--anywhere but at the boss, who was sitting on the table, sternlytaking them in. James stepped to one side. 

"Is this all the committee?" Bannon presently said. 

The men hesitated, and Murphy, who was in the centre, answered, "Yes, sir. "

"You are the governing members of your lodge?"

There was an air of cool authority about Bannon that disturbed the men. They had been led to believe that his power reached only the work on theelevator, and that an attempt on his part to interfere in any way withtheir organization would be an act of high-handed tyranny, "to be resistedto the death" (Grady's words). But these men standing before their boss, in his own office, were not the same men that thrilled with righteouswrath under Grady's eloquence in the meetings over Barry's saloon. So theylooked at the floor and ceiling again, until Murphy at last answered:--

"Yes, sir. "

Bannon waited again, knowing that every added moment of silence gave himthe firmer control. 

"I have nothing to say about the government of your organization, " hesaid, speaking slowly and coldly. "I have brought you here to ask you thisquestion, Have you voted to strike?"

The silence was deep. Peterson, leaning against the closed door, held hisbreath; Max, sitting on the railing with his elbow thrown over the desk, leaned slightly forward. The eyes of the laborers wandered restlesslyabout the room. They were disturbed, taken off their guard; they neededGrady. But the thought of Grady was followed by the consciousness of thesilent figure of the new man, James, standing behind them. Murphy's firstimpulse was to lie. Perhaps, if James had not been there, he would havelied. As it was, he glanced up two or three times, and his lips as manytimes framed themselves about words that did not come. Finally he said, mumbling the words:--

"No, we ain't voted for no strike. "

"There has been no such decision made by your organization?"

"No, I guess not. "

Bannon turned to Peterson. 

"Mr. Peterson, will you please find Mr. Grady and bring him here. "

Max and Peterson hurried out together. Bannon drew up the chair, andturned his back on the committee, going on with his figuring. Not a wordwas said; the men hardly moved; and the minutes went slowly by. Then therewas a stir outside, and the sound of low voices. The door flew open, admitting Grady, who stalked to the railing, choking with anger. Max, whoimmediately followed, was grinning, his eyes resting on a round spot ofdust on Grady's shoulder, and on his torn collar and disarranged tie. Peterson came in last, and carefully closed the door--his eyes wereblazing, and one sleeve was rolled up over his bare forearm. Neither ofthem spoke. If anything in the nature of an assault had seemed necessaryin dragging the delegate to the office, there had been no witnesses. Andhe had entered the room of his own accord. 

Grady was at a disadvantage, and he knew it. Breathing hard, his face red, his little eyes darting about the room, he took it all in--the members ofthe Committee; the boss, figuring at the table, with an air ofexasperating coolness about his lean back; and last of all, James, standing in the shadow. It was the sight of the new man that checked thestorm of words that was pressing on Grady's tongue. But he finallygathered himself and stepped forward, pushing aside one of the committee. 

Then Bannon turned. He faced about in his chair and began to talk straightat the committee, ignoring the delegate. Grady began to talk at the sametime, but though his voice was the louder, no one seemed to hear him. Themen were looking at Bannon. Grady hesitated, started again, and then, bound by his own rage and his sense of defeat, let his words die away, andstood casting about for an opening. 

"--This man Grady threatened a good while ago that I would have a strikeon my hands. He finally came to me and offered to protect me if I wouldpay him five thousand dollars. "

"That's a lie!" shouted the delegate. "He come to me--"

Bannon had hardly paused. He drew a typewritten copy of Grady's letterfrom his pocket, and read it aloud, then handed it over to Murphy. "That'sthe way he came at me. I want you to read it. "

The man took it awkwardly, glanced at it, and passed it on. 

"Tonight he's ordered a strike. He calls himself your representative, buthe has acted on his own responsibility. Now, I am going to talk plain toyou. I came here to build this elevator, and I'm going to do it. I proposeto treat you men fair and square. If you think you ain't treated right, you send an honest man to this office, and I'll talk with him. But I'mthrough with Grady. I won't have him here at all. If you send him aroundagain, I'll throw him off the job. "

The men were a little startled. They looked at one another, and the man onMurphy's left whispered something. Bannon sat still, watching them. 

Then Grady came to himself. He wheeled around to face the committee, andthrew out one arm in a wide gesture. 

"I demand to know what this means! I demand to know if there is a law inthis land! Is an honest man, the representative of the hand of labor, tobe attacked by hired ruffians? Is he to be slandered by the tyrant whodrives you at the point of the pistol? And you not men enough to defendyour rights--the rights held by every American--the rights granted by theConstitution! But it ain't for myself I would talk. It ain't my owninjuries that I suffer for. Your liberty hangs in the balance. This manhas dared to interfere in the integrity of your lodge. Have you nowords--"

Bannon arose, caught Grady's arm, and whirled him around. 

"Grady, " he said, "shut up. " The delegate tried to jerk away, but he couldnot shake off that grip. He looked toward the committeemen, but they weresilent. He looked everywhere but up into the eyes that were blazing downat him. And finally Bannon felt the muscles within his grip relax. 

"I'll tell you what I want you to do, " said Bannon to the committeemen. "Iwant you to elect a new delegate. Don't talk about interference--I don'tcare how you elect him, or who he is, if he comes to me squarely. "

Grady was wriggling again. 

"This means a strike!" he shouted. "This means the biggest strike the Westhas ever seen! You won't get men for love or money--"

Bannon gave the arm a wrench, and broke in:--

"I'm sick of this. I laid this matter before President Carver. I have hisword that if you hang on to this man after he's been proved a blackmailer, your lodge can be dropped from the Federation. If you try to strike, youwon't hurt anybody but yourselves. That's all. You can go. "

"Wait--" Grady began, but they filed out without looking at him. James, ashe followed them, nodded, and said, "Good night, Mr. Bannon. "

Then for the last time Bannon led Grady away. Peterson started forward, but the boss shook his head, and went out, marching the delegate betweenthe lumber piles to the point where the path crossed the Belt Line tracks. 

"Now, Mr. Grady, " he said, "this is where our ground stops. The othersides are the road there, and the river, and the last piles of cribbing atthe other end. I'm telling you so you will know where you don't belong. Now, get out!"

CHAPTER XIV

The effect of the victory was felt everywhere. Not only were Max and Peteand Hilda jubilant over it, but the under-foremen, the timekeepers, eventhe laborers attacked their work with a fresher energy. It was like thefirst whiff of salt air to an army marching to the sea. Since the day whenthe cribbing came down from Ledyard, the work had gone forward with almostincredible rapidity; there had been no faltering during the weeks whenGrady's threatened catastrophe was imminent, but now that the big shadowof the little delegate was dispelled, it was easier to see that the hugewarehouse was almost finished. There was still much to do, and the handfulof days that remained seemed absurdly inadequate; but it needed only aglance at what Charlie Bannon's tireless, driving energy had alreadyaccomplished to make the rest look easy. 

"We're sure of it now. She'll be full to the roof before the year is out. "As Max went over the job with his time-book next morning, he said it toevery man he met, and they all believed him. Peterson, the same man andnot the same man either, who had once vowed that there wouldn't be anynight work on Calumet K, who had bent a pair of most unwilling shouldersto the work Bannon had put upon them, who had once spent long, sulkyafternoons in the barren little room of his new boarding-house; Petersonheld himself down in bed exactly three hours the morning after that famousvictory. Before eleven o'clock he was sledging down a tottering timber atthe summit of the marine tower, a hundred and forty feet sheer above thewharf. Just before noon he came into the office and found Hilda therealone. 

He had stopped outside the door to put on his coat, but had not buttonedit; his shirt, wet as though he had been in the lake, clung to him andrevealed the outline of every muscle in his great trunk. He flung his haton the draughting-table, and his yellow hair seemed crisper and curlierthan ever before. 

"Well, it looks as though we was all right, " he said. 

Hilda nodded emphatically. "You think we'll get through in time, don'tyou, Mr. Peterson?"

"Think!" he exclaimed. "I don't have to stop to think. Here comes Max;just ask him. "

Max slammed the door behind him, brought down the timekeeper's book onHilda's desk with a slap that made her jump, and vaulted to a seat on therailing. "Well, I guess it's a case of hurrah for us, ain't it, Pete?"

"Your sister asked me if I thought we'd get done on time. I was justsaying it's a sure thing. "

"I don't know, " said Max, laughing. "I guess an earthquake could stop us. But why ain't you abed, Pete?"

"What do I want to be abed for? I ain't going to sleep any more thisyear--unless we get through a day or two ahead of time. I don't like tomiss any of it. Charlie Bannon may have hustled before, but I guess thisbreaks his record. Where is he now, Max?"

"Down in the cellar putting in the running gear for the 'cross-the-houseconveyors. He has his nerve with him. He's putting in three drivesentirely different from the way they are in the plans. He told me just nowthat there wasn't a man in the office who could design a drive thatwouldn't tie itself up in square knots in the first ten minutes. I wonderwhat old MacBride'll say when he sees that he's changed the plans. "

"If MacBride has good sense, he'll pass anything that Charlie puts up, "said Pete. 

He was going to say more, but just then Bannon strode into the office andover to the draughting table. He tossed Pete's hat to one side and beganstudying a detail of the machinery plans. 

"Max. " He spoke without looking up. "I wish you'd find a water boy andsend him up to the hotel to get a couple of sandwiches and a bottle ofcoffee. "

"Well, that's a nice way to celebrate, I must say, " Pete commented. 

"Celebrate what?"

"Why, last night; throwing Grady down. You ought to take a day off on thestrength of that. "

"What's Grady got to do with it? He ain't in the specifications. "

"No, " said Pete, slowly; "but where would we have been if he'd got the menoff?"

"Where would we have been if the house had burned up?" Bannon retorted, turning away from the table. "That's got nothing to do with it. I haven'tfelt less like taking a day off since I came on the job. We may getthrough on time and we may not. If we get tangled up in the plans likethis, very often, I don't know how we'll come out. But the surest way toget left is to begin now telling ourselves that this is easy and it's acinch. That kind of talk makes me tired. "

Pete flushed, started an explanatory sentence, and another, and then, veryuncomfortable, went out. 

Bannon did not look up; he went on studying the blue print, measuring hereand there with his three-sided ruler and jotting down incomprehensibleoperations in arithmetic on a scrap of paper. Max was figuring tables inhis time-book, Hilda poring over the cash account. For half an hour no onespoke. Max crammed his cap down over his ears and went out, and there wereten minutes more of silence. Then Bannon began talking. He still busiedhis fingers with the blue print, and Hilda, after discovering that he wastalking to himself rather than to her, went on with her work. Butnevertheless she heard, in a fragmentary way, what he was saying. 

"Take a day off--schoolboy trick--enough to make a man tired. Might aswell do it, though. We ain't going to get through. The office ought to doa little work once in a while just to see what it's like. They think aman can do anything. I'd like to know why I ain't entitled to a night'ssleep as well as MacBride. But he don't think so. After he'd worked metwenty-four hours a day up to Duluth, and I lost thirty-two pounds upthere, he sends me down to a mess like this. With a lot of drawings thatlook as though they were made by a college boy. Where does he expect 'emto pile their car doors, I'd like to know. "

That was the vein of it, though the monologue ran on much longer. But atlast he swung impatiently around and addressed Hilda. "I'm ready to throwup my hands. I think I'll go back to Minneapolis and tell MacBride I'vehad enough. He can come down here and finish the house himself. "

"Do you think he would get it done in time?" Hilda's eyes were laughing athim, but she kept them on her work. 

"Oh, yes, " he said wearily. "He'd get the grain into her somehow. Youcouldn't stump MacBride with anything. That's why he makes it so warm forus. "

"Do you think, " she asked very demurely, indeed, "that if Mr. MacBride hadbeen here he could have built it any faster than--than we have, so far?"

"I don't believe it, " said Bannon, unwarily. Her smile told him that hehad been trapped. "I see, " he added. "You mean that there ain't any reasonwhy we can't do it. "

He arose and tramped uneasily about the little shanty. "Oh, of course, we'll get it done--just because we have to. There ain't anything else wecan do. But just the same I'm sick of the business. I want to quit. "

She said nothing, and after a moment he wheeled and, facing her, demandedabruptly: "What's the matter with me, anyway?" She looked at him frankly, a smile, almost mischievous, in her face. The hard, harassed look betweenhis eyes and about his drawn mouth melted away, and he repeated thequestion: "What's the matter with me? You're the doctor. I'll takewhatever medicine you say. "

"You didn't take Mr. Peterson's suggestion very well--about taking aholiday, I mean. I don't know whether I dare prescribe for you or not. Idon't think you need a day off. I think that, next to a good, longvacation, the best thing for you is excitement. " He laughed. "No, I meanit. You're tired out, of course, but if you have enough to occupy yourmind, you don't know it. The trouble today is that everything is going toosmoothly. You weren't a bit afraid yesterday that the elevator wouldn't bedone on time. That was because you thought there was going to be a strike. And if just now the elevator should catch on fire or anything, you'd feelall right about it again. "

He still half suspected that she was making game of him, and he looked ather steadily while he turned her words over in his mind. "Well, " he said, with a short laugh, "if the only medicine I need is excitement, I'll bethe healthiest man you ever saw in a little while. I guess I'll find Pete. I must have made him feel pretty sore. "

"Pete, " he said, coming upon him in the marine tower a little later, "I'vegot over my stomach-ache. Is it all right?"

"Sure, " said Pete; "I didn't know you was feeling bad. I was thinkingabout that belt gallery, Charlie. Ain't it time we was putting it up? I'mgetting sort of nervous about it. "

"There ain't three days' work in it, the way we're going, " said Bannon, thoughtfully, his eyes on the C. & S. C. Right-of-way that lay between himand the main house, "but I guess you're right. We'll get at it now. There's no telling what sort of a surprise party those railroad fellowsmay have for us. The plans call for three trestles between the tracks. We'll get those up today. "

To Pete, building the gallery was a more serious business. He had notBannon's years of experience at bridge repairing; it had happened that hehad never been called upon to put up a belt gallery before, and this ideaof building a wooden box one hundred and fifty feet long and holding itup, thirty feet in air, on three trestles, was formidable. Bannon'snonchalant air of setting about it seemed almost an affectation. 

Each trestle was to consist of a rank of four posts, planted in a line atright angles to the direction of the gallery; they were to be heldtogether at the top by a corbel. No one gave rush orders any more onCalumet K, for the reason that no one ever thought of doing anything else. If Bannon sent for a man, he came on the run. So in an incredibly shorttime the fences were down and a swarm of men with spades, post augers, picks, and shovels had invaded the C. & S. C. Right-of-way. Up and downthe track a hundred yards each way from the line of the gallery Bannon hadstationed men to give warning of the approach of trains. "Now, " saidBannon, "we'll get this part of the job done before any one has time tokick. And they won't be very likely to try to pull 'em up by the rootsonce we get 'em planted. "

But the section boss had received instructions that caused him to bewide-awake, day or night, to what was going on in the neighborhood ofCalumet K. Half an hour after the work was begun, the picket line up thetrack signalled that something was coming. There was no sound of bell orwhistle, but presently Bannon saw a hand car spinning down the track asfast as six big, sweating men could pump the levers. The section boss hadlittle to say; simply that they were to get out of there and put up thatfence again, and the quicker the better. Bannon tried to tell him that therailroad had consented to their putting in the gallery, that they werewell within their rights, that he, the section boss, had better be carefulnot to exceed his instructions. But the section boss had spoken his wholemind already. He was not of the sort that talk just for the pleasure ofhearing their own voices, and he had categorical instructions that madeparley unnecessary. He would not even tell from whom he had the orders. Sothe posts were lugged out of the way and the fence was put up and the menscattered out to their former work again, grinning a little over Bannon'sdiscomfiture. 

Bannon's next move was to write to Minneapolis for information andinstructions, but MacBride, who seemed to have all the information therewas, happened to be in Duluth, and Brown's instructions were consequentlyfoggy. So, after waiting a few days for something more definite, Bannondisappeared one afternoon and was gone more than an hour. When he strodeinto the office again, keen and springy as though his work had just begun, Hilda looked up and smiled a little. Pete was tilted back in the chairstaring glumly out of the window. He did not turn until Bannon slapped himjovially on the shoulders and told him to cheer up. 

"Those railroad chaps are laying for us, sure enough, " he said. "I've beentalking to MacBride himself--over at the telephone exchange; he ain't intown--and he said that Porter--he's the vice-president of the C. & S. C. --Porter told him, when he was in Chicago, that they wouldn't object at allto our building the gallery over their tracks. But that's all we've got togo by. Not a word on paper. Oh, they mean to give us a picnic, and nomistake!"

With that, Bannon called up the general offices of the C. & S. C. Andasked for Mr. Porter. There was some little delay in getting theconnection, and then three or four minutes of fencing while a young man atthe other end of the line tried to satisfy himself that Bannon had theright to ask for Mr. Porter, let alone to talk with him, and Bannon, steadily ignoring his questions, continued blandly requesting him to callMr. Porter to the telephone. Hilda was listening with interest, forBannon's manner was different from anything she had ever seen in himbefore. It lacked nothing of his customary assurance, but its breezinessgave place to the most studied restraint; he might have been a railroadpresident himself. He hung up the receiver, however, without accomplishinganything, for the young man finally told him that Mr. Porter had gone outfor the afternoon. 

So next morning Bannon tried again. He learned that Porter was in, and allseemed to be going well until he mentioned MacBride & Company, after whichMr. Porter became very elusive. Three or four attempts to pin him down, orat least to learn his whereabouts, proved unsuccessful, and at lastBannon, with wrath in his heart, started down town. 

It was nearly night before he came back, and as before, he found Petesitting gloomily in the office waiting his return. "Well, " exclaimed thenight boss, looking at him eagerly; "I thought you was never coming back. We've most had a fit here, wondering how you'd come out. I don't have toask you, though. I can see by your looks that we're all right. "

Bannon laughed, and glanced over at Hilda, who was watching him closely. "Is that your guess, too, Miss Vogel?"

"I don't think so, " she said. "I think you've had a pretty hard time. "

"They're both good guesses, " he said, pulling a paper out of his pocket, and handing it to Hilda. "Read that. " It was a formal permit for buildingthe gallery, signed by Porter himself, and bearing the O. K. Of the generalmanager. 

"Nice, isn't it?" Bannon commented. "Now read the postscript, Miss Vogel. "It was in Porter's handwriting, and Hilda read it slowly. "MacBride &Company are not, however, allowed to erect trestles or temporaryscaffolding in the C. & S. C. Right-of-way, nor to remove any property ofthe Company, such as fences, nor to do anything which may, in the opinionof the local authorities, hinder the movement of trains. "

Pete's face went blank. "A lot of good this darned permit does us then. That just means we can't build it. "

Bannon nodded. "That's what it's supposed to mean, " he said. "That's justthe point. "

"You see, it's like this, " he went on. "That man Porter would make thefinest material for ring-oiling, dust proof, non-inflammable bearings thatI ever saw. He's just about the hardest, smoothest, shiniest, coolestlittle piece of metal that ever came my way. Well, he wants to delay us onthis job. I took that in the moment I saw him. Well, I told him how wewent ahead, just banking on his verbal consent, and how his railroad hadjumped on us; and I said I was sure it was just a misunderstanding, but Iwanted it cleared up because we was in a hurry. He grinned a little overthat, and I went on talking. Said we'd bother 'em as little as possible;of course we had to put up the trestles in their property, because wecouldn't hold the thing up with a balloon. 

"He asked me, innocent as you please, if a steel bridge couldn't be madein a single span, and I said, yes, but it would take too long. We only hada few days. 'Well, ' he says, 'Mr. Bannon, I'll give you a permit. ' Andthat's what he gave me. I bet he's grinning yet. I wonder if he'll grin somuch about three days from now. "

"Do you mean that you can build it anyway?" Hilda demanded breathlessly. 

He nodded, and, turning to Pete, plunged into a swift, technicalexplanation of how the trick was to be done. "Won't you please tell me, too?" Hilda asked appealingly. 

"Sure, " he said. He sat down beside her at the desk and began drawing on apiece of paper. Pete came and looked over his shoulder. Bannon began hisexplanation. 

Illustration: ["HERE'S THE SPOUTING HOUSE"]

"Here's the spouting house, and here's the elevator. Now, suppose theywere only fifteen feet apart. Then if we had two ten-foot sticks and put'em up at an angle and fastened the floor to a bolt that came down between'em, the whole weight of the thing would be passed along to the foundationthat the ends of the timbers rest on. But you see, it's got to be onehundred and fifty feet long, and to build it that way would take two onehundred-foot timbers, and we haven't got 'em that long. 

Illustration: [HE WAS DRAWING LINES ACROSS THE TIMBER]

"But we've got plenty of sticks that are twenty feet long, and plenty ofbolts, and this is the way we arrange 'em. We put up our first stick (x)at an angle just as before. Then we let a bolt (o) down through the upperend of it and through the floor of the gallery. Now the next timber (y) weput up at just the same angle as the first, with the foot of it bearingdown on the lower end of the bolt. 

"That second stick pushes two ways. A straight down push and a sidewayspush. The bolt resists the down push and transmits it to the first stick, and that pushes against the sill that I marked a. Now, the sideways pushis against the butt of the first timber of the floor, and that's passedon, same way, to the sill. 

Illustration: ["WELL, THAT'S THE WHOLE TRICK"]

"Well, that's the whole trick. You begin at both ends at once and justkeep right on going. When the thing's done it looks this way. You seewhere the two sections meet in the middle, it's just the same as thelittle fifteen-foot gallery that we made a picture of up here. "

"I understand that all right, " said Pete, "but I don't see yet how you'regoing to do it without some kind of scaffolding. "

"Easy. I ain't going to use a balloon, but I've got something that'sbetter. It'll be out here this afternoon. Come and help me get thingsready. "

There was not much to do, for the timber was already cut to the rightsizes, but Bannon was not content till everything was piled so that whenwork did begin on the gallery it could go without a hitch. He was alreadyseveral days behind, and when one is figuring it as fine as Bannon wasdoing in those last days, even one day is a serious matter. He could donothing more at the belt gallery until his substitute for a scaffoldshould arrive; it did not come that afternoon or evening, and next morningwhen he came on the job it still had not been heard from. There was enoughto occupy every moment of his time and every shred of his thought withoutbothering about the gallery, and he did not worry about it as he wouldhave worried if he had had nothing to do but wait for it. 

But when, well along in the afternoon, a water boy found him up on theweighing floor and told him there was something for him at the office, hemade astonishing time getting down. "Here's your package, " said Max, asBannon burst into the little shanty. It was a little, round, pasteboardbox. If Bannon had had the office to himself, he would, in hisdisappointment, have cursed the thing till it took fire. As it was, hestood speechless a moment and then turned to go out again. 

"Aren't you going to open it, now you're here?" asked Max. 

Bannon, after hesitating, acted on the suggestion, and when he saw what itwas, he laughed. No, Brown had not forgotten the hat! Max gazed at it inunfeigned awe; it was shiny as a mirror, black as a hearse, tall, inhis eyes--for this was his first near view of one--as the seat of adining-room chair. "Put it on, " he said to Bannon. "Let's see how it lookson you. "

"Not much. Wouldn't I look silly in a thing like that, though? I'd ratherwear an ordinary length of stovepipe. That'd be durable, anyway. I wonderwhat Brown sent it for. I thought he knew a joke when he saw one. "

Just then one of the under-foremen came in. "Oh, Mr. Bannon, " he said, "I've been looking for you. There's a tug in the river with a big, steelcable aboard that they said was for us. I told 'em I thought it was amistake--"

It was all one movement, Bannon's jamming that hat--the silk hat--down onhis head, and diving through the door. He shouted orders as he ran, and anumber of men, Pete among them, got to the wharf as soon as he did. 

"Now, boys, this is all the false work we can have. We're going to hang itup across the tracks and hang our gallery up on it till it's strong enoughto hold itself. We've got just forty-eight hours to do the whole trick. Catch hold now--lively. "

Illustration: [IT WAS A SIMPLE SCHEME]

It was a simple scheme of Bannon's. The floor of the gallery was to bebuilt in two sections, one in the main house, one in the spouting house. As fast as the timbers were bolted together the halves of the floor wereshoved out over the tracks, each free end being supported by a rope whichran up over a pulley. The pulley was held by an iron ring fast to thecable, but perfectly free to slide along it, and thus accompany the end ofthe floor as it was moved outward. Bannon explained it to Pete in a fewquick words while the men were hustling the big cable off the tug. 

"Of course, " he was concluding, "the thing'll wabble a good deal, specially if it's as windy as this, and it won't be easy to work on, butit won't fall if we make everything fast. "

Pete had listened pretty closely at first, but now Bannon noticed that hisattention seemed to be wandering to a point a few inches above Bannon'shead. He was about to ask what was the matter when he found out. It waswindier on that particular wharf than anywhere else in the Calumet flats, and the hat he had on was not built for that sort of weather. It wasperfectly rigid, and not at all accommodated to the shape of Bannon'shead. So, very naturally, it blew off, rolled around among their feet fora moment, and then dropped into the river between the wharf and the tug. 

Bannon was up on the spouting house, helping make fast the cable end whena workman brought the hat back to him. Somebody on the tug had fished itout with a trolling line. But the hat was well past resuscitation. It hadbeen thoroughly drowned, and it seemed to know it. 

"Take that to the office, " said Bannon. "Have Vogel wrap it up just as itis and ship it to Mr. Brown. I'll dictate a letter to go with it by andby. "

For all Bannon's foresight, there threatened to be a hitch in the work onthe gallery. The day shift was on again, and twenty-four of Bannon'sforty-eight hours were spent, when he happened to say to a man:--

"Never mind that now, but be sure you fix it tomorrow. "

"Tomorrow?" the man repeated. "We ain't going to work tomorrow, are we?"

Bannon noticed that every man within hearing stopped work, waiting for theanswer. "Sure, " he said. "Why not?"

There was some dissatisfied grumbling among them which he was quite at aloss to understand until he caught the word "Christmas. "

"Christmas!" he exclaimed, in perfectly honest astonishment. "Is tomorrowChristmas?" He ran his hand through his stubby hair. "Boys, " he said, "I'msorry to have to ask it of you. But can't we put it off a week? Look here. We need this day. Now, if you'll say Christmas is a week from tomorrow, I'll give every man on the job a Christmas dinner that you'll neverforget; all you can eat and as much again, and you bring your friends, ifwe work tomorrow and we have her full of wheat a week from today. Doesthat go?"

It went, with a ripping cheer to boot; a cheer that was repeated here andthere all over the place as Bannon's offer was passed along. 

So for another twenty-four hours they strained and tugged and tusselled upin the big swing, for it was nothing else, above the railroad tracks. There was a northeast gale raging down off the lake, with squalls of rainand sleet mixed up in it, and it took the crazy, swaying box in its teethand shook it and tossed it up in the air in its eagerness to strip it offthe cable. But somewhere there was an unconquerable tenacity that heldfast, and in the teeth of the wind the long box grew rigid, as the trusseswere pounded into place by men so spent with fatigue that one might say itwas sheer good will that drove the hammers. 

At four o'clock Christmas afternoon the last bolt was drawn taut. Thegallery, was done. Bannon had been on the work since midnight--sixteenconsecutive hours. He had eaten nothing except two sandwiches that he hadstowed in his pockets. His only pause had been about nine o'clock thatmorning when he had put his head in the office door to wish Hilda a MerryChristmas. 

When the evening shift came on--that was just after four--one of theunder-foremen tried to get him to talking, but Bannon was too tired totalk. "Get your tracks and rollers in, " he said. "Take down the cable. "

"Don't you want to stay and see if she'll hold when the cable comes down?"called the foreman after him as he started away. 

"She'll hold, " said Bannon. 

CHAPTER XV

Before December was half gone--and while the mild autumn weather serenelyheld, in spite of weather predictions and of storm signs about the sun anddays of blue haze and motionless trees--the newspaper-reading public knewall the outside facts about the fight in wheat, and they knew it to be thebiggest fight since the days of "Old Hutch" and the two-dollar-a-bushelrecord. Indeed, there were men who predicted that the two-dollar markwould be reached before Christmas, for the Clique of speculators who heldthe floor were buying, buying, buying--millions upon millions of dollarswere slipping through their ready hands, and still there was nohesitation, no weakening. Until the small fry had dropped out the deal hadbeen confused; it was too big, there were too many interests involved, tomake possible a clear understanding, but now it was settling down into agrim fight between the biggest men on the Board. The Clique were buyingwheat--Page & Company were selling it to them: if it should come out, onthe thirty-first of December, that Page & Company had sold more than theycould deliver, the Clique would be winners; but if it should have beendelivered, to the last bushel, the corner would be broken, and the Cliquewould drop from sight as so many reckless men had dropped before. Thereaders of every great newspaper in the country were watching Page &Company. The general opinion was that they could not do it, that such anenormous quantity of grain could not be delivered and registered in time, even if it were to be had. 

But the public overlooked, indeed it had no means of knowing, oneimportant fact. The members of the Clique were new men in the public eye. They represented apparently unlimited capital, but they were young, eager, overstrung; flushed with the prospect of success, they were talking forpublication. They believed they knew of every bushel in the country thatwas to be had, and they allowed themselves to say that they had alreadybought more than this. If this were true, Page was beaten. But it was nottrue. The young men of the Clique had forgotten that Page had trainedagents in every part of the world; that he had alliances with greatrailroad and steamer lines, that he had a weather bureau and a system ofcrop reports that outdid those of the United States Government, that hecould command more money than two such Cliques, and, most important ofall, that he did not talk for publication. The young speculators werematching their wits against a great machine. Page had the wheat, he wasmaking the effort of his career to deliver it, and he had no idea oflosing. 

Already millions of bushels had been rushed into Chicago. It was here thatthe fight took on its spectacular features, for the grain must be weighedand inspected before it could be accepted by the Board of Trade, and thiscould be done only in "regular" warehouses. The struggle had been to getcontrol of these warehouses. It was here that the Clique had done theirshrewdest work, and they had supposed that Page was finally outwitted, until they discovered that he had coolly set about building amillion-bushel annex to his new house, Calumet K. And so it was that thenewspapers learned that on the chance of completing Calumet K before thethirty-first of December hung the whole question of winning and losing;that if Bannon should fail, Page would be short two million bushels. Andthen came reporters and newspaper illustrators, who hung about the officeand badgered Hilda, or perched on timber piles and sketched until Bannonor Peterson or Max could get at them and drive them out. Young men withsnap-shot cameras waylaid Bannon on his way to luncheon, and published, with his picture, elaborate stories of his skill in averting a strike--stories that were not at all true. 

Far out in Minnesota and Montana and South Dakota farmers were drivingtheir wheat-laden wagons to the hundreds of local receiving houses thatdotted the railroad lines. Box cars were waiting for the red grain, toroll it away to Minneapolis and Duluth--day and night the long trains werepuffing eastward. Everywhere the order was, "Rush!" Railroad presidentsand managers knew that Page was in a hurry, and they knew what Page'shurries meant, not only to the thousands of men who depended on him fortheir daily bread, but to the many great industries of the Northwest, whose credit and integrity were inextricably interwoven with his. Divisionsuperintendents knew that Page was in a hurry, and they snapped out ordersand discharged half-competent men and sent quick words along the hot wiresthat were translated by despatchers and operators and yard masters intoprofane, driving commands. Conductors knew it, brakemen and switchmen knewit; they made flying switches in defiance of companies' orders, they ranwhere they used to walk, they slung their lunch pails on their arms andate when and where they could, gazing over their cold tea at some portraitof Page, or of a member of the Clique, or of Bannon, in the morning'spaper. 

Elevator men at Minneapolis knew that Page was in a hurry, and they workedday and night at shovel and scale. Steamboat masters up at Duluth knew it, and mates and deck hands and stevedores and dockwallopers--more than onesteamer scraped her paint in the haste to get under the long spouts thatwaited to pour out grain by the hundred thousand bushels. Trains came downfrom Minneapolis, boats came down from Duluth, warehouse after warehouseat Chicago was filled; and overstrained nerves neared the breaking pointas the short December days flew by. Some said the Clique would win, somesaid Page would win; in the wheat pit men were fighting like tigers; everyone who knew the facts was watching Charlie Bannon. 

The storm came on the eighteenth of the month. It was predicted two daysahead, and ship masters were warned at all the lake ports. It was aNorthwest blizzard, driven down from the Canadian Rockies at sixty milesan hour, leaving two feet of snow behind it over a belt hundreds of mileswide. But Page's steamers were not stopping for blizzards; they headed outof Duluth regardless of what was to come. And there were a bad few days, with tales of wreck on lake and railroad, days of wind and snow and bittercold, and of risks run that supplied round-house and tug-office yarnspinners with stories that were not yet worn out. Down on the job the snowbrought the work to a pause, but Bannon, within a half-hour, was out ofbed and on the ground, and there was no question of changing shifts until, after twenty-four hours, the storm had passed, and elevator, annex andmarine tower were cleared of snow. Men worked until they could notstagger, then snatched a few hours' sleep where they could. Word waspassed that those who wished might observe the regular hours, but not adozen men took the opportunity. For now they were in the public eye, andthey felt as soldiers feel, when, after long months of drill anddiscipline, they are led to the charge. 

Then came two days of biting weather--when ears were nipped and fingersstiffened, and carpenters who earned three dollars a day envied thelaborers, whose work kept their blood moving--and after this a thaw, withsleet and rain. James, the new delegate, came to Bannon and pointed outthat men who are continually drenched to the skin are not the bestworkmen. The boss met the delegate fairly; he ordered an oilskin coat forevery man on the job, and in another day they swarmed over the building, looking, at a distance, like glistening yellow beetles. 

But if Chicago was thawing, Duluth was not. The harbor at the western endof Lake Superior was ice-bound, and it finally reached a point that thetugs could not break open the channel. This was on the twenty-third andtwenty-fourth. The wires were hot, but Page's agents succeeded in coveringthe facts until Christmas Day. It was just at dusk, after leaving the mento take down the cable, that Bannon went to the office. 

A newsboy had been on the grounds with a special edition of a cheapafternoon paper. Hilda had taken one, and when Bannon entered the officehe found her reading, leaning forward on the desk, her chin on her hands, the paper spread out over the ledger. 

"Hello, " he said, throwing off his dripping oilskin, and coming into theenclosure; "I'm pretty near ready to sit down and think about theChristmas tree that we ain't going to have. "

She looked up, and he saw that she was a little excited; her eyes alwaystold him. During this last week she had been carrying the wholeresponsibility of the work on her shoulders. 

"Have you seen this?" she asked. 

"Haven't read a paper this week. " He leaned over the desk beside her andread the article. In Duluth harbor, and at St. Mary's straits, a channelthrough the ice had been blasted out with dynamite, and the last ladensteamer was now ploughing down Lake Michigan. Already one steamer waslying at the wharf by the marine tower, waiting for the machinery tostart, and others lay behind her, farther down the river. Long strings ofbox cars filled the Belt Line sidings, ready to roll into the elevator atthe word. 

Bannon seated himself on the railing, and caught his toes between thesupports. 

"I'll tell you one thing, " he said, "those fellows have got to get uppretty early in the morning if they're going to beat old Page. "

She looked at him, and then slowly folded the paper and turned toward thewindow. It was nearly dark outside. The rain, driving down from thenortheast, tapped steadily on the glass. The arc lamp, on the pole nearthe tool house, was a blurred circle of light. She was thinking that theywould have to get up pretty early to beat Charlie Bannon. 

They were silent for a time--silences were not so hard as they had been, afew weeks before--both looking out at the storm, and both thinking thatthis was Christmas night. On the afternoon before he had asked her to takea holiday, and she had shaken her head. "I couldn't--I'd be here beforenoon, " was what she had said; and she had laughed a little at her ownconfession, and hurried away with Max. 

She turned and said, "Is it done--the belt gallery?"

He nodded. "All done. "

"Well--" she smiled; and he nodded again. 

"The C. & S. C. Man--the fellow that was around the other day and measuredto see if it was high enough--he's out there looking up with his mouthopen. He hasn't got much to say. "

"You didn't have to touch the tracks at all?"

"Not once. Ran her out and bolted her together, and there she was. I'mabout ready for my month off. We'll have the wheat coming in tomorrow, andthen it's just walking down hill. "

"Tomorrow?" she asked. "Can you do it?"

"Got to. Five or six days aren't any too much. If it was an old house andthe machinery was working well, I'd undertake to do it in two or three, but if we get through without ripping up the gallery, or pounding the legthrough the bottom of a steamer, it'll be the kind of luck I don't have. "He paused and looked at the window, where the rain was streaking theglass. "I've been thinking about my vacation. I've about decided to go tothe St. Lawrence. Maybe there are places I'd like better, but when afellow hasn't had a month off in five years, he doesn't feel likeexperiments. "

It was the personal tone again, coming into their talk in spite of theexcitement of the day and the many things that might have been said. 

Hilda looked down at the ledger, and fingered the pages. Bannon smiled. 

"If I were you, " he said, "I'd shut that up and fire it under the table. This light isn't, good enough to work by, anyway. "

She slowly closed the book, saying:--

"I never worked before on Christmas. "

"It's a mistake. I don't believe in it, but somehow it's when my hardestwork always comes. One Christmas, when I was on the Grand Trunk, there wasa big wreck at a junction about sixty miles down the road. "

She saw the memory coming into his eyes, and she leaned back against thedesk, playing with her pen, and now and then looking up. 

"I was chief wrecker, and I had an old Scotch engineer that you couldn'tmove with a jack. We'd rubbed up together three or four times before I'dhad him a month, and I was getting tired of it. We'd got about halfway tothe junction that night, and I felt the brakes go on hard, and before Icould get through the train and over the tender, we'd stopped dead. TheScotchman was down by the drivers fussing around with a lantern. Ihollered out:--

"'What's the matter there?'

"'She's a bit 'ot, ' said he. 

"You'd have thought he was running a huckleberry train from the time hetook. I ordered him into the cab, and he just waved his hand and said:--

"'Wait a bit, wait a bit. She'll be cool directly. '"

Bannon chuckled at the recollection. 

"What did you do?" Hilda asked. 

"Jumped for the lever, and hollered for him to get aboard. "

"Did he come?"

"No, he couldn't think that fast. He just stood still, looking at me, while I threw her open, and you could see his lantern for a mile back--henever moved. He had a good six-mile walk back to the last station. "

There was a long silence. Bannon got up and walked slowly up and down theenclosure with his hands deep in his pockets. 

"I wish this would let up, " he said, after a time, pausing in his walk, and looking again at the window. "It's a wonder we're getting things doneat all. "

Hilda's eye, roaming over the folded newspaper, fell on the weatherforecast. 

"Fair tomorrow, " she said, "and colder. "

"That doesn't stand for much. They said the same thing yesterday. It's aworse gamble than wheat. "

Bannon took to walking again; and Hilda stepped down and stood by thewindow, spelling out the word "Calumet" with her ringer on the mistyglass. At each turn, Bannon paused and looked at her. Finally he stoodstill, not realizing that he was staring until she looked around, flushed, and dropped her eyes. Then he felt awkward, and he began turning over theblue prints on the table. 

"I'll tell you what I'll have to do, " he said. "I rather think now I'llstart on the third for Montreal, I'm telling you a secret, you know. I'mnot going to let Brown or MacBride know where I'll be. And if I can pickup some good pictures of the river, I'll send them to you. I'll get one ofthe Montmorency Falls, if I can. They're great in winter. "

"Why--why, thank you, " she said. "I'd like to have them. "

"I ain't much at writing letters, " he went on, "but I'll send you thepictures, and you write and tell me how things are going. "

She laughed softly, and followed the zigzag course of the raindrop withher finger. 

"I wouldn't have very much to say, " she said, speaking with a littlehesitation, and without looking around. "Max and I never do much. "

"Oh, you can tell how your work goes, and what you do nights. "

"We don't do much of anything. Max studies some at night--a man he used towork for gave him a book of civil engineering. "

"What do you do?"

"I read some, and then I like to learn things about--oh, about business, and how things are done. "

Bannon could not take his eyes from her--he was looking at her hair, andat the curved outline of one cheek, all that he could see of her face. They both stood still, listening to the patter of the rain, and to thesteady drip from the other end of the office, where there was a leak inthe roof. Once she cleared her throat, as if to speak, but no words came. 

There was a stamping outside, and she slipped back to the ledger, as thedoor flew open. Bannon turned to the blue prints. 

Max entered, pausing to knock his cap against the door, and wring it out. 

"You ought to have stayed out, Mr. Bannon, " he said. "It's the greatestthing you ever saw--doesn't sag an inch. And say--I wish you could hearthe boys talk--they'd lie down and let you walk on 'em, if you wanted to. "

Max's eyes were bright, and his face red with exercise and excitement. Hecame to the gate and stood wiping his feet and looking from one to theother for several moments before he felt the awkwardness that had comeover him. His long rubber coat was thrown back, and little streams ofwater ran down his back and formed a pool on the floor behind him. 

"You'd better come out, " he said. "It's the prettiest thing I ever saw--aclean straight span from the main house to the tower. "

Bannon stood watching him quizzically; then he turned to Hilda. She, too, had been looking at Max, but she turned at the same moment, and their eyesmet. 

"Do you want to go?" he said. 

She nodded eagerly. "I'd like to ever so much. "

Then Bannon thought of the rain, but she saw his thought as he glancedtoward the window, and spoke quickly. 

"I don't mind--really. Max will let me take his coat. "

"Sure, " said Max, and he grinned. She slipped into it, and it envelopedher, hanging in folds and falling on the floor. 

"I'll have to hold it up, " she said. "Do we have much climbing?"

"No, " said Max, "it ain't high. And the stairs are done, you know. "

Hilda lifted the coat a little way with both hands, and put out one smalltoe. Bannon looked at it, and shook his head. "You'll get your feet wet, "he said. 

She looked up and met Bannon's eyes again, with an expression that puzzledMax. 

"I don't care. It's almost time to go home, anyway. "

So they went out, and closed the door; and Max, who had been told to "staybehind and keep house, " looked after them, and then at the door, and anodd expression of slow understanding came into his face. It was not inwhat they had said, but there was plainly a new feeling between them. Forthe first time in his life, Max felt that another knew Hilda better thanhe did. The way Bannon had looked at her, and she at him; the mutualunderstanding that left everything unsaid; the something--Max did not knowwhat it was, but he saw it and felt it, and it disturbed him. He sat onthe table, and swung his feet, while one expression chased another overhis face. When he finally got himself together, he went to the door, andopening it, looked out at the black, dim shape of the elevator that, stoodbig and square, only a little way before him, shutting out whatever hemight else have seen of rushing sky or dim-lighted river, or of therailroads and the steamboats and the factories and rolling mills beyond. It was as if this elevator were his fate, looming before him and shuttingout the forward view. In whatever thoughts he had had of the future, inwhatever plans, and they were few, which he had revolved in his head, there had always been a place for Hilda. He did not see just what he wasto do, just what he was to become, without her. He stood there for a longtime, leaning against the door-jamb with his hands in his pockets, and thesharper gusts of rain whirled around the end of the little building andbeat on him. And then--well, it was Charlie Bannon; and Max knew that hewas glad it was no one else. 

The narrow windows in the belt gallery had no glass, and the rain camedriving through them into the shadows, each drop catching the white shineof the electric lights outside. The floor was trampled with mud andlittered with scraps of lumber, tool boxes, empty nail kegs, and shavings. The long, gloomy gallery was empty when Bannon and Hilda stepped into it, excepting a group of men at the farther end, installing the rollers forthe belt conveyor--they could be seen indistinctly against a light in theriver house. 

The wind came roaring around the building, and the gallery trembled andshook. Hilda caught her breath and stopped short. 

"It's all right, " said Bannon. "She's bound to move some. "

"I know--" she laughed--"I wasn't expecting it--it startled me a little. "

"Watch where you step. " He took her arm and guided her slowly between theheaps of rubbish. 

At one of the windows she paused, and stood full in the rain, looking outat the C. & S. C. Tracks, with their twinkling red and green lights, allblurred and seeming far off in the storm. 

"Isn't this pretty wet?" he said, standing beside her. 

"I don't care. " She shook the folds of the rubber coat, and glanced downat it. "I like it. "

They looked out for a long time. Two millwrights came through the gallery, and glanced at them, but they did not turn. She stepped forward and letthe rain beat on her face--he stood behind, looking at her. A light showedfar down the track, and they heard a faint whistle. "A train, " he said;and she nodded. The headlight grew, and the car lights appeared behind it, and then the black outline of the engine. There was a rush and a roar, andit passed under them. 

"Doesn't it make you want to jump down?" she said softly, when the roarhad dwindled away. 

He nodded with a half-smile. "Say, " he said, a little later, "I don't knowabout your writing--I don't believe we'd better--" he got the words outmore rapidly--"I'll tell you what you do--you come along with me and wewon't have to write. "

"Come--where?"

"Up to the St. Lawrence. We can start on the third just the same. "

She did not answer, and he stopped. Then, after a moment, she slowlyturned, and looked at him. 

"Why--" she said--"I don't think I--"

"I've just been thinking about it. I guess I can't do anything else--Imean I don't want to go anywhere alone. I guess that's pretty plain, isn'tit--what I mean?"

She leaned back against the wall and looked at him; it was as if she couldnot take her eyes from his face. 

"Perhaps I oughtn't to expect you to say anything now, " he went on. "Ijust thought if you felt anything like I did, you'd know pretty well, bythis time, whether it was yes or no. "

She was still looking at him. He had said it all, and now he waited, hisfists knotted tightly, and a peculiar expression on his face, almost as ifhe were smiling, but it came from a part of his nature that had neverbefore got to the surface. Finally she said:--

"I think we'd better go back. "

He did not seem to understand, and she turned away and started off alone. In a moment he was at her side. He guided her back as they had come, andneither spoke until they had reached the stairway. Then he said, in a lowtone that the carpenters could not hear:--

"You don't mean that--that you can't do it?"

She shook her head and hurried to the office. 

CHAPTER XVI

Bannon stood looking after her until she disappeared in the shadow of anarc lamp, and after that he continued a long time staring into the blot ofdarkness where the office was. At last the window became faintly luminous, as some one lighted the wall lamp; then, as if it were a signal he hadbeen waiting for, Bannon turned away. 

An hour before, when he had seen the last bolt of the belt gallery drawntaut, he had become aware that he was quite exhausted. The fact was soobvious that he had not tried to evade it, but had admitted to himself, inso many words, that he was at the end of his rope. But when he turned fromgazing at the dimly lighted window, it was not toward his boarding-house, where he knew he ought to be, but back into the elevator, that his feetled him. 

For once, his presence accomplished nothing. He went about withoutthinking where; he passed men without seeing who they were or what theywere doing. When he walked through the belt gallery, he saw the foreman ofthe big gang of men at work there was handling them clumsily, so that theyinterfered with each other, but it did not occur to him to give the ordersthat would set things right. Then, as if his wire-drawn muscles had notdone work enough, he climbed laboriously to the very top of the marinetower. 

He was leaning against a window-casing; not looking out, for he sawnothing, but with his face turned to the fleet of barges lying in theriver; when some one spoke to him. 

"I guess you're thinking about that Christmas dinner, ain't you, Mr. Bannon?"

"What's that?" he demanded, wheeling about. Then rallying his scatteredfaculties, he recognized one of the carpenters. "Oh, yes, " he said, laughing tardily. "Yes, the postponed Christmas dinner. You think I'm infor it, do you? You know it's no go unless this house is full of wheatclear to the roof. "

"I know it, " said the man. "But I guess we're going to stick you for it. Don't you think we are?"

"I guess that's right. "

"I come up here, " said the carpenter, well pleased at the chance for atalk with the boss, "to have a look at this--marine leg, do you call it? Ihaven't been to work on it, and I never saw one before. I wanted to findout how it works. "

"Just like any other leg over in the main house. Head pulley up here;another one down in the boot; endless belt running over 'em with steelcups rivetted on it to scoop up the grain. Only difference is that insteadof being stationary and set up in a tank, this one's hung up. We let thewhole business right down into the boat. Pull it up and down with thatsteam winch. "

The man shook his head. "What if it got away from you?"

"That's happened, " said Bannon. "I've seen a leg most as big as this smashthrough two decks. Thought it was going right on through the bottom of theboat. But that wasn't a leg that MacBride had hung up. This one won'tfall. "

Bannon answered one or two more questions rather at random, then suddenlycame back to earth. "What are you doing here, anyway?" he demanded. "Seemsto me this is a pretty easy way to earn thirty cents an hour. "

"I--I was just going to see if there wasn't something I could do, " the mananswered, a good deal embarrassed. Then before Bannon could do more thanecho, "Something to do?" added: "I don't get my time check till midnight. I ain't on this shift. I just come around to see how things was going. We're going to see you through, Mr. Bannon. "

Bannon never had a finer tribute than that, not even what young Page saidwhen the race was over; and it could not have come at a moment when heneeded it more. He did not think much in set terms about what it meant, but when the man had gone and he had turned back to the window, he took along breath of the night air and he saw what lay beneath his eyes. He sawthe line of ships in the river; down nearer the lake another of Page'selevators was drinking up the red wheat out of the hold of a snub-nosedbarge; across the river, in the dark, they were backing another string ofwheat-laden cars over the Belt Line switches. As he looked out andlistened, his imagination took fire again, as it had taken fire that dayin the waiting-room at Blake City, when he had learned that the little, one-track G. &M. Was trying to hinder the torrent of the Northern wheat. 

Well, the wheat had come down. It had beaten a blizzard, it had churnedand wedged and crushed its way through floating ice and in the trough ofmauling seas; belated passenger trains had waited on lonely sidings whileit thundered by, and big rotary ploughs had bitten a way for it across thedrifted prairies. Now it was here, and Charlie Bannon was keeping itwaiting. 

He stood there, looking, only a moment; then before the carpenter'sfootsteps were well out of hearing, he followed him down the stairway tothe belt gallery. Before he had passed half its length you could have seenthe difference. In the next two hours every man on the elevator saw him, learned a quicker way to splice a rope or align a shaft, and heard, beforethe boss went away, some word of commendation that set his hands toworking the faster, and made the work seem easy. The work had gone onwithout interruption for weeks, and never slowly, but there were timeswhen it went with a lilt and a laugh; when laborers heaved at a hoistingtackle with a Yo-ho, like privateersmen who have just sighted a sail;when, with all they could do, results came too slowly, and the hours flewtoo fast. And so it was that Christmas night; Charlie Bannon was back onthe job. 

About ten o'clock he encountered Pete, bearing off to the shanty a quartbottle of cold coffee and a dozen big, thick sandwiches. "Come on, Charlie, " he called. "Max is coming, too; but I guess we've got enough tospare you a little. "

So the three of them sat down to supper around the draughting-table, andbetween bites Bannon talked, a little about everything, but principally, and with much corroborative detail--for the story seemed to strain evenPete's easy credulity--of how, up at Yawger, he had been run on theindependent ticket for Superintendent of the Sunday School, and had beenbarely defeated by two votes. 

When the sandwiches were put away, and all but three drinks of the coffee, Bannon held the bottle high in the air. "Here's to the house!" he said. "We'll have wheat in her tomorrow night!"

They drank the toast standing; then, as if ashamed of such a sentimentaldemonstration, they filed sheepishly out of the office. They walked fiftypaces in silence. Then Pete checked suddenly and turned to Bannon. "Holdon, Charlie, where are you going?"

"Going to look over those 'cross-the-house conveyor drives down cellar. "

"No, you ain't either. You're going to bed. "

Bannon only laughed and started on toward the elevator. 

"How long is it since you had any sleep?" Pete demanded. 

"I don't know. Guess I must have slept part of the time while we wasputting up that gallery. I don't remember much about it. "

"Don't be in such a hurry, " said Pete, and as he said it he reached outhis left hand and caught him by the shoulder. It was more by way ofgesture than otherwise, but Bannon had to step back a pace to keep hisfeet. "I mean business, " Pete went on, though laughing a little. "When webegin to turn over the machinery you won't want to go away, so this isyour last chance to get any sleep. I can't make things jump like you can, but I can keep 'em going tonight somehow. "

"Hadn't you better wrap me up in cotton flannel and feed me warm milk witha spoon? Let go of me and quit your fooling. You delay the game. "

"I ain't fooling. I'm boss here at night, and I fire you till morning. That goes if I have to carry you all the way to your boarding house andtie you down to the bed. " Pete meant it. As if, again, for illustration, he picked Bannon up in his arms. The boss was ready for the move thistime, and he resisted with all his strength, but he would have had as muchchance against the hug of a grizzly bear; he was crumpled up. Pete startedoff with him across the flat. 

"All right, " said Bannon. "I'll go. "

At seven o'clock next morning Pete began expecting his return. At eight hebegan inquiring of various foremen if they had seen anything of CharlieBannon. By nine he was avowedly worried lest something had gone wrong withhim, and a little after ten Max set out for the boarding house. 

Encountering the landlady in the hall, he made the mistake of asking herif she had seen anything of Mr. Bannon that morning. She had someelementary notions of strategy, derived, doubtless, from experience, andbefore beginning her reply, she blocked the narrow stairway with her broadperson. Then, beginning with a discussion of Mr. Bannon's excellent moralcharacter and his most imprudent habits, and illustrating by anecdotes ofvarious other boarders she had had at one time and another, she led up tothe statement that she had seen nothing of him since the night before, andthat she had twice knocked at his door without getting any reply. 

Max, who had laughed a little at Pete's alarm, was now pretty wellfrightened himself, but at that instant they heard the thud of bare feeton the floor just above them. "That's him now, " said the landlady, thoughtlessly turning sideways, and Max bolted past her and up the stairs. 

He knocked at the door and called out to know if he could come in. Thegrowl he heard in reply meant invitation as much as it meant anything, sohe went in. Bannon, already in his shirt and trousers, stood with his backto the door, his face in the washbowl. As he scoured he sputtered. Maxcould make little out of it, for Bannon's face was under water half thetime, but he caught such phrases as "Pete's darned foolishness, " "Collegeboy trick, " "Lie abed all the morning, " and "Better get an alarm clock"--which thing and the need for it Bannon greatly despised--and he reachedthe conclusion that the matter was nothing more serious than that Bannonhad overslept. 

But the boss took it seriously enough. Indeed, he seemed deeplyhumiliated, and he marched back to the elevator beside Max without sayinga word until just as they were crossing the Belt Line tracks, when theexplanation of the phenomenon came to him. 

"I know where I get it from, " he exclaimed, as if in some measure relievedby the discovery. "I must take after my uncle. He was the greatest fellowto sleep you ever saw. "

So far as pace was concerned that day was like the others; while the menwere human it could be no faster; with Bannon on the job it could notflag; but there was this difference, that today the stupidest sweepersknew that they had almost reached the end, and there was a rally like thatwhich a runner makes at the beginning of the last hundred yards. 

Late in the afternoon they had a broad hint of how near the end was. Thesweepers dropped their brooms and began carrying fire buckets full ofwater. They placed one or more near every bearing all over the elevator. The men who were quickest to understand explained to the slower ones whatthe precaution meant, and every man had his eye on the nearest pulley tosee when it would begin to turn. 

But Bannon was not going to begin till he was ready. He had inspected thewhole job four times since noon, but just after six he went all over itagain, more carefully than before. At the end he stepped out of the doorat the bottom of the stairway bin, and pulled it shut after him. It wasnot yet painted, and its blank surface suggested something. He drew outhis blue pencil and wrote on the upper panel:--

O. K. C. H. BANNON. 

Then he walked over to the power house. It was a one-story brick building, with whose construction Bannon had had no concern, as Page & Company hadplaced the contract for it elsewhere. Every night for the past week lightshad been streaming from its windows, and day and night men had waited, ready at any time for the word to go ahead. A dozen of them were loungingabout the brick-paved space in front of the battery of boilers when Bannonopened the door, and they sprang to their feet as they read his errand inhis face. 

"Steam up, " he said. "We'll be ready as soon as you are. "

There was the accumulated tension of a week of inactivity behind thesemen, and the effect of Bannon's words was galvanic. Already low fires wereburning under the boilers, and now the coal was piled on, the draughtsroared, the smoke, thick enough to cut, came billowing out of the tallchimney. Every man in the room, even the wretchedest of the drippingstokers, had his eyes on the steam gauges, but for all that the waterboiled, and the indicator needles crept slowly round the dials, and atlast the engineer walked over and pulled the whistle cord. 

Hitherto they had marked the divisions of time on the job by the shrillnote of the little whistle on the hoisting engine boiler, and there wasnot a man but started at the screaming crescendo of the big siren on topof the power house. Men in the streets, in the straggling boarding housesover across the flats, on the wharves along the river, men who had beenforbidden to come to the elevator till they were needed lest they shouldbe in the way, had been waiting days for that signal, and they camestreaming into the elevator almost before the blast had died away. 

Page's superintendent was standing beside Bannon and Pete by the foot ofthe main drive. "Well, " he said, "we're ready. Are you?"

Bannon nodded and turned to a laborer who stood near. "Go tell theengineer to go ahead. " The man, proud as though he had just been promoted, went out on the run. 

"Now, " said Bannon, "here's where we go slow. All the machinery in thehouse has got to be thrown in, one thing at a time, line shafts first andthen elevators and the rest of it. Pete, you see it done up top. I'll lookout for it down here. See that there's a man to look at each bearing atleast once in three minutes, and let me know if it gets warm. "

It took a long time to do it, but it had to be done, for Bannon wasinflexible, but at last everything in elevator, annex, and spouting housethat could turn was turning, and it was reported to Bannon. "Now, " hesaid, "she's got to run light for fifteen minutes. No--" he went on inanswer to the superintendent's protest; "you're lucky I didn't say twohours. It's the biggest chance I ever took as it is. "

So while they stared at the second hands of their watches the minutescrept away--Pete wound his watch up tight in the vain hope of making it goa little faster--and at last Bannon turned with a nod to thesuperintendent. 

"All right, " he said. "You're the boss now. "

And then in a moment the straining hawsers were hauling cars up into thehouse. The seals were broken, the doors rolled back, and the wheat camepouring out. The shovellers clambered into the cars and the steam powershovels helped the torrent along. It fell through the gratings, into steeltanks, and then the tireless metal cups carried it up, up, up, 'way to thetop of the building. And then it came tumbling down again; down intogarners, and down again into the great weighing hoppers, and recognizedand registered and marketable at last, part of the load that was to burythe Clique that had braved it out of sight of all but their creditors, itwent streaming down the spouts into the bins. 

The first of the barges in the river was moved down beside the spoutinghouse, her main hatch just opposite the tower. And now Pete, in chargethere, gave the word, and the marine leg, gravely, deliberately descended. There is a magnificent audacity about that sort of performance. The legwas ninety feet long, steel-booted, framed of great timbers, heavy enoughto have wrecked the barge like a birch baric canoe if it had got away. Itwent down bodily into the hold and the steel boot was buried in wheat. Then Pete threw another lever, and in a moment another endless series ofcups was carrying the wheat aloft. It went over the cross-head and down aspout, then stretched out in a golden ribbon along the glistening whitebelt that ran the length of the gallery. Then, like the wheat from thecars, it was caught up again in the cups, and shot down through spouts, and carried along on belts to the remotest bins in the annex. 

For the first few hours of it the men's nerves were hair springs, but astime went on and the stream kept pouring in without pause, the tensionrelaxed though the watch never slackened. Men patted the bearingsaffectionately, and still the same report came to Bannon, "All cool. "

Late that night, as the superintendent was figuring his weighing reports, he said to Bannon, "At this rate, we'll have several hours to spare. "

"We haven't had our accident yet, " said Bannon, shortly. 

It happened within an hour, at the marine leg, but it was not serious. They heard a splintering sound, down in the dark, somewhere, and Pete, shouting to them to throw out the clutch, climbed out and down on thesleet-clad girders that framed the leg. An agile monkey might have beenglad to return alive from such a climb, but Pete came back presently witha curious specimen of marine hardware that had in some way got into thewheat, and thence into the boot and one of the cups. Part way up it hadgot jammed and had ripped up the sheathing of the leg. They started theleg again, but soon learned that it was leaking badly. 

"You'll have to haul up for repairs, I guess, " the captain called up tothem. 

"Haven't time, " said Pete, under his breath, and with a hammer and nails, and a big piece of sacking, he went down the leg again, playing his neckagainst a half-hour's delay as serenely as most men would walk downstairsto dinner. "Start her up, boys, " he called, when the job was done, and, with the leg jolting under his hands as he climbed, he came back into thetower. 

That was their only misfortune, and all it cost them was a matter ofminutes, so by noon of the thirtieth, an hour or two after MacBride andyoung Page arrived from Minneapolis, it became clear that they would bethrough in time. 

At eight o'clock next morning, as Bannon and MacBride were standing in thesuperintendent's office, he came in and held out his hand. "She's full, Mr. Bannon. I congratulate you. "

"Full, eh?" said MacBride. Then he dropped his hand on Bannon's shoulder. "Well, " he said, "do you want to go to sleep, or will you come and talkbusiness with me for a little while?"

"Sleep!" Bannon echoed. "I've been oversleeping lately. "

CHAPTER XVII

The elevator was the place for the dinner, if only the mild weather thathad followed the Christmas storm should continue--on that Bannon, Pete, and Max were agreed. New Year's Day would be a holiday, and there was roomon the distributing floor for every man who had worked an hour on the jobsince the first spile had been driven home in the Calumet clay. To be suremost of the laborers had been laid off before the installing of themachinery, but Bannon knew that they would all be on hand, and he meant tohave seats for them. But on the night of the thirtieth the wind swungaround to the northeast, and it came whistling through the cracks in thecupola walls with a sting in it that set the weighers to shivering. And asthe insurance companies would have inquired curiously into any arrangementfor heating that gloomy space on the tops of the bins, the plan had to begiven up. 

As soon as the last of the grain was in, on the thirty-first, Max took anorth-bound car and scoured South Chicago for a hall that was big enough. Before the afternoon was gone he had found it, and had arranged witha restaurant keeper to supply the dinner. Early the next morning thethree set to work, making long tables and benches by resting planks onboxes, and covering the tables with pink and blue and white scallopedshelf-paper. 

It was nearly ten o'clock when Max, after draping a twenty-four-foot flagin a dozen different ways, let it slide down the ladder to the floor andsat down on the upper round, looking out over the gridiron of tables witha disgusted expression. Peterson, aided by a man from the restaurant, wasbringing in load after load of thick white plates, stacking them waisthigh near the door. Max was on the point of calling to him, but herecollected that Pete's eye, though quick with timbers, would not helpmuch in questions of art. Just then Bannon came through the doorway withanother flag rolled under his arm. 

"They're here already, a couple of dozen of 'em, " he said, as he droppedthe flag at the foot of the ladder. "I've left James on the stairs to keep'em out until we're ready. Better have an eye on the fire escape, too--they're feeling pretty lively. "

"Say, " Max said abruptly, "I can't make this thing look anyhow. I guessit's up to you. "

Bannon stepped back and looked up at the wall. 

"Why don't you just hang them from the ceiling and then catch them up frompretty near the bottom--so they'll drape down on both sides of thewindows?"

"I know, " said Max, "but there's ways of making 'em look just right--ifHilda was here; she'd know--" He paused and looked down at the red, white, and blue heap on the floor. 

During the last week they had not spoken of Hilda, and Bannon did not knowwhether she had told Max. He glanced at him, but got no sign, for Max wasgazing moodily downward. 

"Do you think, " Bannon said, "do you think she'd care to come around?"

He tried to speak easily, as he might have spoken of her at any timebefore Christmas Day, but he could not check a second glance at Max. Atthat moment Max looked up, and as their eyes met, with an awkward pause, Bannon knew that he understood; and for a moment the impatience that hehad been fighting for a week threatened to get away with him. He had seennothing of Hilda, except for the daily "Good morning, " and a word now andthen. The office had been besieged by reporters waiting for a chance athim; under-foremen had been rushing in and out; Page's representatives andthe railroad and steamboat men had made it their headquarters. It may bethat he would not have spoken in any case, for he had said all that hecould say, and he knew that she would give him an answer when she could. 

Max's eyes had dropped again. 

"You mean for her to help fix things up?" he asked. 

Bannon nodded; and then, as Max did not look up, he said, "Yes. "

"Why--why, yes, I guess she'd just as soon. " He hesitated, then begancoming down the ladder, adding, "I'll go for her. "

Bannon looked over his shoulder--Pete was clattering about among thedishes. "Max, " he said, "hold on a minute. " Max turned and came slowlyback. Bannon had seated himself on the end of a table, and now he waited, looking down at the two rows of plates, and slowly turning a caster thatstood at his elbow. What he finally said was not what Max was awaiting. 

"What are you going to do now, Max--when you're through on this job?"

"Why--I don't know--"

"Have you got anything ahead?"

"Nothing sure. I was working for a firm of contractors up on the NorthSide, and I've been thinking maybe they'd take me back. "

"You've had some experience in building before now, haven't you?" Bannonwas speaking deliberately, as if he were saying what he had thought outbefore. 

"Yes, a good deal. It's what I've mostly done since I quit the lumberbusiness. "

"When Mr. MacBride was here, " said Bannon, "he told me that we've got acontract for a new house at Indianapolis. It's going to be concrete, fromthe spiles up--there ain't anything like it in the country. I'm going downnext week to take charge of the job, and if you'd like to go along as myassistant, I'll take you. "

Max did not know what to say. At first he grinned and blushed, thinkingonly that Bannon had been pleased with his work; then he grew serious. 

"Well, " said Bannon, "what do you say?"

Max still hesitated. At last he replied:--

"Can I have till tomorrow to think about it? I--you see, Hilda and I, wemost always talk things over, and I don't exactly like to do anythingwithout--"

"Sure, " said Bannon; "think it over if you like. There's no hurry up tothe end of the week. " He paused as if he meant to go on, but changed hismind and stood up. Max, too, was waiting, as if there were more to besaid. 

"You two must think we've got all day to fix things. " It was Pete callingfrom the other end of the room. "There ain't no loafing allowed here. "

Bannon smiled, and Max turned away. But after he had got a third of theway down the aisle, he came back. 

"Say, Mr. Bannon, " he said, "I want to tell you that I--Hilda, she said--she's told me something about things--and I want to--" It had been a lameconversation; now it broke down, and they stood through a long silencewithout speaking. Finally Max pulled himself together, and said in a low, nervous voice: "Say, it's all right. I guess you know what I'm thinkingabout. And I ain't got a word to say. " Then he hurried out. 

When Max and Hilda came in, the restaurant man was setting up the papernapkin tents on the raised table at the end of the hall, and Pete stood bythe door, looking upon his work with satisfaction. He did not see themuntil they were fairly in the room. 

"Hello, " he said; "I didn't know you was coming, Miss Vogel. " He swept hisarm around. "Ain't it fine? Make you hungry to look at all them plates?"

Hilda followed his gesture with a smile. Her jacket was still buttonedtightly, and her eyes were bright and her cheeks red from the brisk outerair. Bannon and James were coming toward them, and she greeted them with anod. 

"There's going to be plenty of room, " she said. 

"That's right, " Pete replied. "There won't be no elbows getting in the wayat this dinner. Come up where you can see better. " He led the way to theplatform, and they all followed. 

"This is the speakers' table, " Pete went on, "where the boss and all willbe"--he winked toward Bannon--"and the guest of honor. You show her how wesit, Max; you fixed that part of it. "

Max walked around the table, pointing out his own, Pete's, James', andBannon's seats, and those of the committee. The middle seat, next toBannon's he passed over. 

"Hold on, " said Pete, "you forgot something. "

Max grinned and drew back the middle chair. 

"This is for the guest of honor, " he said, and looked at Hilda. Pete waslooking at her, too, and James--all but Bannon. 

The color, that had been leaving her face, began to come back. 

"Do you mean me?" she asked. 

"I guess that's pretty near, " said Pete. 

 She shook her head. "Oh, no--thank you very much--I can't stay. "

Pete and Max looked at each other. 

"The boys'll be sorry, " said Pete. "It's kind of got out that maybe you'dbe here, and--I don't believe they'd let you off. "

Hilda was smiling, but her face was flushed. She shook her head. "Oh, no, "she replied; "I only came to help. "

Pete turned on Max, with a clumsy laugh that did not cover hisdisappointment. 

"How about this, Max? You ain't been tending to business. Ain't that so, James? Wasn't he going to see that she come and sat up with us where theboys could see her?" He turned to Hilda. "You see, most of the boys knowyou've had a good deal to do with things on the job, and they've kind oftook a shine to you--" Pete suddenly awoke to the fact that he had nevertalked so boldly to a girl before. He hesitated, looked around at Max andJames for support and at Bannon, and then, finding no help, he grinned, and the warm color surged over his face. The only one who saw it all wasHilda, and in spite of her embarrassment the sight of big, strong, bashfulPete was too much for her. A twinkle came into her eyes, and a faint smilehovered about her mouth. Pete saw it, misunderstood it, and, feelingrelieved, went on, not knowing that by bringing that twinkle to Hilda'seyes, he had saved the situation. 

"It's only that they've talked about it some, and yesterday a couple of'em spoke to me, and I said I'd ask Max, and--"

"Thank you, Mr. Peterson, " Hilda replied. "Max should have told me. " Sheturned toward Max, her face sober now except for the eyes, which would notcome under control. Max had been dividing his glances between her andBannon, feeling the situation heavily, and wondering if he ought not tocome to her relief, but unable to dig up the right word. Pete spoke upagain:--

"Say, honest now, ain't you coming?"

"I can't really. I'm sorry. I know you'll have a good time. "

Bannon had been standing aside, unwilling to speak for fear of making itharder for her. 

But now she turned to him and said, with a lightness that puzzled him:--

"Aren't we going to do some decorating, Mr. Bannon? I'm afraid it will bedinner time before Mr. Peterson knows it. "

Pete flushed again at this, but she gave him a quick smile. 

"Yes, " said Bannon, "there's only a little over half an hour. " He paused, and looked about the group, holding his watch in his hand and fingeringthe stem. The lines about his mouth were settling. Hilda glanced again athim, and from the determined look in his eyes, she knew that his week ofwaiting was over; that he meant to speak to her before she left the hall. It was all in the moment's silence that followed his remark; then he wenton, as easily as if he were talking to a gang on the marine tower--but thetime was long enough for Hilda to feel her brief courage slipping away. She could not look at him now. 

"Take a look at that door, James, " he was saying. "I guess you'll have totend to business if you want any dinner. "

They all turned and saw the grinning heads of some of the carpenterspeering into the room. There was the shuffling of many feet behind them onthe stairs, and the sound of cat calls and whistling. A shove was passedon from somewhere back in the hallway, and one of the carpenters camesprawling through the door. The others yelled good-naturedly. 

"I'll fix 'em, " said James, with a laugh, starting toward them. 

"Give him a lift, Pete, " said Bannon. "He'll need it. You two'd betterkeep the stairs clear for a while, or they'll stampede us. "

So Pete followed, and for a few moments the uproar from the stairs drownedall attempts at conversation. Only Max was left with them now. He stoodback by the wall, still looking helplessly from one to the other. Therestaurant men were bustling about the floor; and Hilda was glad they werethere, for she knew that Bannon meant to send Max away, too. She was toonervous to stand still; and she walked around the table, resetting theknives and forks and spoons. The paper napkins on this table were the onlyones in the room. She wondered at this, and when the noise of the men haddied away into a few jeering cries from the street, and Max had gone toget the flags (for she had said that they should be hung at this end ofthe room), and the waiters were bustling about, it gave her a chance tobreak the silence. 

"Aren't the other"--she had to stop to clear her throat--"aren't the othermen going to have napkins?"

"They wouldn't know what they were for. "

His easy tone gave her a momentary sense of relief. 

"They'd tie them on their hats, or make balls to throw around. " He paused, but added: "It wouldn't look bad, though, would it?--to stand them up thisway on all the tables. "

She made no reply. 

"What do you say?" He was looking at her. "Shall we do it?"

She nodded, and then dropped her eyes, angry with herself that she couldnot overcome her nervousness. There was another silence, and she broke it. 

"It would look a good deal better, " she said, "if you have time to do it. Max and I will put up the flags. "

She had meant to say something that would give her a better control of thesituation, but it sounded very flat and disagreeable--and she had notmeant it to sound disagreeable. Indeed, as soon as the words were out, andshe felt his eyes on her, and she knew that she was blushing, she was notsure that she had meant it at all. Perhaps that was why, when Bannonasked, in a low voice, "Would you rather Max would help you?" she turnedaway and answered in a cool tone that did not come from any one of herrushing, struggling thoughts, "If you don't mind. "

She did not see the change that came over his face, the weary look thatmeant that the strain of a week had suddenly broken, but she did not needto see it, for she knew it was there. She heard him step down from theplatform, and then she watched him as he walked down the aisle to meetMax, who was bringing up the flags. She wondered impatiently why Bannondid not call to him. Then he raised his head, but before a word had lefthis lips she was speaking, in a clear tone that Max could plainly hear. She was surprised at herself. She had not meant to say a word, but out itcame; and she was conscious of a tightening of her nerves and a defiantgladness that at last her real thoughts had found an outlet. 

"Max, " she said, "won't you go out and get enough napkins to put at allthe places? You'll have to hurry. "

Bannon was slow in turning; when he did there was a peculiar expression onhis face. 

"Hold on, there, " called a waiter. "There ain't time to fold them. "

"Yes, there is, " said Bannon, shortly. "The boys can wait. "

"But dinner's most ready now. "

"Then I guess dinner's got to wait, too. " The waiter looked disgusted, andMax hurried out. Bannon gathered up the flags and came to the platform. Hilda could not face him. For an instant she had a wild impulse to followMax. She finally turned her back on Bannon and leaned her elbows on achair, looking over the wall for a good place to hang the flags. She wasgoing to begin talking about it as soon as he should reach the platform. The words were all ready, but now he was opposite her, looking across thetable with the red and white bundle in his arms, and she had not said it. Her eyes were fixed on a napkin, studying out the curious Japanese design. She could hear his breathing and her own. She let her eyes rise as high asthe flags, then slowly, higher and higher, until they met his, fluttered, and dropped. But the glance was enough. She could not have resisted thelook in his eyes. 

"Did you mean it?" he asked, almost breathlessly. "Did you mean the wholething?"

She could not reply. She glanced around to see if the waiters could hear. 

"Can't you tell me?" he was saying. "It's been a week. "

She gazed at the napkin until it grew misty and indistinct. Then sheslowly nodded. 

A waiter was almost within hearing. Bannon stood looking at her, heedlessof everything but that she was there before him, that her eyes were tryingto peep up at him through the locks of red gold hair that had strayed overher forehead. 

"Please"--she whispered--"please put them up. "

And so they set to work. He got the ladder and she told him what to do. Her directions were not always clear, but that mattered little, for hecould not have followed them. Somehow the flags went up, and if the effectwas little better than Max's attempt had been, no one spoke of it. 

Pete and Max came in together soon with the napkins, and a little timeslipped by before Bannon could draw Max aside and grip his hand. Then theywent at the napkins, and as they sat around the table, Hilda and Bannon, Pete and the waiters, folding them with rapid fingers, Bannon foundopportunity to talk to her in a low voice, during the times when Pete waswhistling, or was chaffing with the waiters. He told her, a few words at atime, of the new work Mr. MacBride had assigned to him, and in hisenthusiasm he gave her a little idea of what it would mean to him, thisopportunity to build an elevator the like of which had never been seen inthe country before, and which would be watched by engineers from New Yorkto San Francisco. He told her, too, something about the work, how it hadbeen discovered that piles could be made of concrete and driven into theground with a pile driver, and that neither beams nor girders--none of thetimbers, in fact--were needed in this new construction. He was nearlythrough with it, and still he did not notice the uncertain expression inher eyes. 

It was not until she asked in a faltering undertone, "When are you goingto begin?" that it came to him. And then he looked at her so long thatPete began to notice, and she had to touch his foot with hers under thetable to get him to turn away. He had forgotten all about the vacation andthe St. Lawrence trip. 

Hilda saw, in her side glances, the gloomy expression that had settledupon his face; and she recovered her spirits first. 

"It's all right, " she whispered; "I don't care. "

Max came up then, from a talk with James out on the stairway, and for afew moments there was no chance to reply. But after Bannon had caughtMax's signals to step out of hearing of the others, and before he hadrisen, there was a moment when Pete's attention was drawn by one of thewaiters, and he said:--

"Can you go with me--Monday?"

She looked frightened, and the blood rose in her cheeks so that she had tobend low over her pile of napkins. 

"Will you?" He was pushing back his chair. 

She did not look up, but her head nodded once with a little jerk. 

"And you'll stay for the dinner, won't you--now?"

She nodded once more, and Bannon went to join Max. 

Max made two false starts before he could get his words out in the properorder. 

"Say, " he finally said; "I thought maybe you wouldn't care if I toldJames. He thinks you're all right, you know. And he says, if you don'tcare, he'd like to say a little something about it when he makes hisspeech. Not much, you know--nothing you wouldn't like--he says it wouldtickle the boys right down to their corns. "

Bannon looked around toward Hilda, and slowly shook his head. 

"Max, " he replied, "if anybody says a word about it at this dinner I'llbreak his head. "

That should have been enough, but when James' turn came to speak, afternearly two hours of eating and singing and laughing and riotous goodcheer, he began in a way that brought Bannon's eyes quickly upon him. 

"Boys, " he said, "we've worked hard together on this job, and one way andanother we've come to understand what sort of a man our boss is. Ain'tthat right?"

A roar went up from hundreds of throats, and Hilda, sitting next toBannon, blushed. 

"We've thought we understood him pretty well, but I've just found out thatwe didn't know so much as we thought we did. He's been a pretty squarefriend to all of us, and I'm going to tell you something that'll give youa chance to show you're square friends of his, too. "

He paused, and then was about to go on, leaning forward with both hands onthe table, and looking straight down on the long rows of bearded faces, when he heard a slight noise behind him. A sudden laugh broke out, andbefore he could turn his head, a strong hand fell on each shoulder and hewent back into his chair with a bump. Then he looked up, and saw Bannonstanding over him. The boss was trying to speak, but he had to wait a fullminute before he could make himself heard. He glanced around and saw thelook of appeal in Hilda's eyes. 

"Look here, boys, " he said, when the room had grown quiet; "we aren'thanding out any soft soap at this dinner. I won't let this man up till hepromises to quit talking about me. "

There was another burst of laughter, and James shouted something thatnobody understood. Bannon looked down at him, and said quietly, and with atwinkle in his eye, but very firmly:--

"If you try that again, I'll throw you out of the window. "

James protested, and was allowed to get up. Bannon slipped into his seatby Hilda. 

"It's all right, " he said in a low tone. "They won't know it now until weget out of here. " His hand groped for hers under the table. 

James was irrepressible. He was shouting quickly now, in order to get thewords out before Bannon could reach him again. 

"How about this, boys? Shall we stand it?"

"No!" was the reply in chorus. 

"All right, then. Three cheers for Mr. Bannon. Now--Hip, hip--"

There was no stopping that response.