andiwork of God, and everywhere the
pitiful beauty of man's efforts to work out his destiny and enslave
the forces.

Human power was not the least of these forces. Ingenious men had
learned how to use not only wind currents, waterfalls, and lightning
and the heat stored up in coal, but to use also the power stored up in
the muscles of their more slow-brained fellows. And these forces broke
loose at times with the ruinous effect of tornadoes, floods, and
thunderbolts.

The laborers needed merciful and intelligent handling, and the better
they were the better their work. It was hard to say what was heresy
and what was wisdom, what was oppression and what was helpful
discipline. Whichever way one turned, there was misunderstanding,
protest, revolt.

Mamise thought that everybody ought to be happy and love everybody
else. She thought that it ought to be joy enough to go on working in
that splendid shop and about the flock of ships on the ways.

And yet people would insist on being miserable. She, the priestess of
unalloyed rapture, also sighed.

Hearing a step on the crane, she was startled. After all, she was only
a woman, alone up here, and help could never reach her if any one
threatened her. She looked over the edge.

There came the man who most of all threatened her--Davidge. He
endangered her future most of all, whether he married her or deserted
her. He evidently had no intention of marrying her, for she had given
him chances enough and hints enough.

He had a telegram in his hand and apologized for following her.

"I didn't know but it might be bad news."

"There's nobody to send me bad news except you and Abbie." She opened
the telegram. It was an invitation from Polly to come back to sanity
and a big dance at the Hotel Washington. She smiled. "I wonder if I'll
ever dance again."

Davidge was tired from the climb. He dropped to the seat occupied by
the chauffeur of the crane. He rose at once with an apology and
offered his place to Mamise.

She shook her head, then gave a start:

"Great Heavens! that reminds me! That seat of yours I took on the
train from New York. I've never paid for it."

"Oh, for the Lord's sake--"

"I'm going to pay it. That's where all the trouble started. How much
was it?"

"I don't remember."

"About two dollars now."

"Exactly one then."

She drove her hand down into the pocket of her breeches and dragged up
a fistful of small money.

"To-day was pay-day. Here's