st horses an' never
havin' sense enough to see it."

He looked his employer over--from his neatly turned foot to the
cravat, tied in an up-to-date knot. At that, even, Travis flushed.
"Here," he said--"another toddy. I'll trust you to bring in your
report all right."

Carpenter again took his straight--his eyes had begun to glitter, his
face to flush, and he felt more like talking.

Travis lit another cigar. He puffed and smoked in silence for a
while. The rings of smoke went up incessantly. His face had begun to
redden, his fingers to thrill to the tip with pulsing blood. With it
went his final contingency of reserve, and under it he dropped to the
level of the base-born at his side.

Whiskey is the great leveler of life. Drinking it, all men are,
indeed, equal.

"When are you going out to get in more hands for the mill?" asked
Travis after a pause.

"To-morrow----"

"So soon?" asked Travis.

"Yes, you see," said Carpenter, "there's been ha'f a dozen of the
brats died this summer an' fall--scarlet fever in the mill."

Travis looked at him and smiled.

"An' I've got to git in some mo' right away," he went on. "Oh,
there's plenty of 'em in these hills."

Travis smoked for a few minutes without speaking.

"Carpenter, had you ever thought of Helen Conway--I mean--of getting
Conway's two daughters into the mill?" He made the correction with a
feigned indifference, but the other quickly noticed it. In an instant
Carpenter knew.

As a matter of fact the Whipper-in had not thought of it, but it was
easy for him to say what he thought the other wished him to say.

"Wal, yes," he replied; "that's jes' what I had been thinkin' of.
They've got to come in--'ristocrats or no 'ristocrats! When it comes
to a question of bread and meat, pedigree must go to the cellar."

"To the attic, you mean," said Travis--"where their old clothes are."

Carpenter laughed: "That's it--you all'ers say the k'rect thing. 'N'
as I was sayin'"--he went on--"it is a ground-hog case with 'em. The
Major's drunk all the time. His farm an' home'll be sold soon. He's
'bleeged to put 'em in the mill--or the po'-house."

He paused, thinking. Then, "But ain't that Helen about the pretties'
thing you ever seed?" He chuckled. "You're sly--but I seen you givin'
her that airin' behin' Lizette and Sadie B.--"

"You've nothing to do with that," said Travis gruffly. "You want a
new girl for our drawing-in machine--the best paying and most
profita