sition of the greatest importance to the quality of metal
run. There was a perceptible consciousness of this in the manner in
which Gilkan moved forward to meet Gilbert Penny's son.

"I don't want to give offence," the founderman said, "but, Mr. Penny,
sir--" he stopped, commenced again without the involuntary mark of
respect. "Mr. Penny, stay away from my house. There is more that I could
say but I won't. That is all--keep out of my place. No names, please."

Howat Penny's resentment swelled in a fiery anger at the stupidity that
had driven Thomas Gilkan into making his request. A sense of humiliation
contributed to an actual fury, the bitterer for the reason that he could
make no satisfactory reply. Gilkan was a freedman; while he was
occupying a dwelling at Shadrach Furnace it was his to conduct as he
liked. Howat's face darkened--the meagre fool! He would see that there
was another head founder here within a week.

But there were many positions in the Province for a man of Gilkan's
ability, there were few workmen of his sensitive skill with the charge
and blast. Not only Howat's father, but Abner Forsythe as well, would
search to the end all cause for the founderman's leaving. And, in
consequence of that, any detestable misunderstanding must increase. He
determined, with an effort unaccustomed and arduous, to ignore the
other; after all Gilkan was but an insignificant mouthpiece for the
familiar ineptitude of the world at large. Thomas Gilkan might continue
at the Furnace without interference from him; Fanny marry her stupid
labourer. Howat had seen symptoms of that last night. He would no longer
complicate her existence with avenues of escape from a monotony which
she patently elected.

"Very well, Gilkan," he agreed shortly, choking on his wrath. He turned
and tramped shortly from the interior. A sudden, lengthening sunlight
bathed the open and a sullen group of charcoal burners about Dan Hesa.
Their faces seemed ebonized by the grinding in of particles of blackened
wood. Some women, even, in gay, primitive clothes, stood back of the
men. As Howat passed, a low, hostile murmur rose. He halted, and met
them with a dark, contemptuous countenance, and the murmur died in a
shuffling of feet in the dry grass. He turned again, and walked slowly
away, when a broken piece of rough casting hurtled by his head. In an
overpowering rage he whirled about, throwing his rifle to his shoulder.
A man detached from the group was