orkers like a uniformed general in a rabble. He strode to the
side of the foreman of the gang who stood near.

"Who is that man down there?" he demanded.

"Dunno," the foreman answered briefly, "he asked fer work this mornin'
and I give him a job."

"I 'm going to speak to him."

"Fire erway."

Arsdale clambered into the hole and reached Donaldson's side before the
latter glanced up. When he did raise his head, it was with an easy,
unembarrassed nod of recognition.

"Good Lord," gasped Arsdale, "it _is_ you!"

"Yes."

Donaldson wiped his wet brow. He was not in particularly good training
for such heavy work.

"But what the deuce--"

"I needed money for a night's lodging and took the first job that
offered," he explained.

There was nothing melodramatic in his speech or attitude. He was not
posing. He spoke of his necessity in the matter-of-fact way in which
he had accepted it. It was necessary to earn the sheer essentials of
life, in order to get a footing--to get sufficient capital to open up
his office again. He would not have borrowed if he could, and a
penniless lawyer in New York is in as bad a position as a penniless
tramp. Not only was he glad of this opportunity to earn a couple of
dollars, but he found pleasure, in spite of the physical strain, in
this most elemental of employments. There was something in the act of
forcing his shovel into the earth that brought him comfort in the
thought that he was beginning in the cleanest of all clean ways. He
was earning his first dollar like a pioneer. He was earning it by the
literal sweat of his brow.

He turned back from Arsdale's astonished expression to his task.

"See here, Donaldson," protested the latter excitedly, "this is absurd!
You must quit this. I 've money enough--"

"And I have n't," interrupted Donaldson heaving a shovel full of moist
dirt into the waiting dump cart.

Even Arsdale was checked by the expression he caught in Donaldson's
eyes. He ventured nothing further, but, bewildered, stood there, dumb
a moment, before he remembered his message.

"I came out to find you," he managed to speak. "Elaine wants you to
come back to lunch."

"What?"

Donaldson paused in his work and searched Arsdale's face.

"What did you say?" he demanded slowly.

"Elaine wants you to come back for lunch. She sent me to find you."

Arsdale saw Donaldson's lungs expand. He saw every vein in his face
throb with new life. He saw him g