. They
try to fool her into indorsing their bills of lading in full, but it
don't work for a cent."

"You call her Tom Grogan?" Babcock asked, with a certain tone in his
voice. He resented, somehow, Crane's familiarity.

"Certainly. Everybody calls her Tom Grogan. It's her husband's name.
Call her anything else, and she don't answer. She seems to glory in it,
and after you know her a while you don't want to call her anything else
yourself. It comes kind of natural--like your calling a man 'colonel' or
'judge."

Babcock could not but admit that Crane might be right. All the names
which could apply to a woman who had been sweetheart, wife, and mother
seemed out of place when he thought of this undaunted spirit who had
defied Lathers, and with one blow of her fist sent the splinters of a
fence flying about his head.

"We've got the year's contract for coal at the fort," continued Crane.
"The quarter-master-sergeant who inspects it--Sergeant Duffy--has a
friend named McGaw who wants to do the unloading into the government
bins. There's a low price on the coal, and there's no margin for
anybody; and if Duffy should kick about the quality of the coal,--and
you can't please these fellows if they want to be ugly,--Crane & Co.
will be in a hole, and lose money on the contract. I hate to go back on
Tom Grogan, but there's no help for it. The ten cents a ton I'd save if
she hauls the coal instead of McGaw would be eaten up in Duffy's short
weights and rejections. I sent Sergeant Duffy's letter to her, so she
can tell how the land lies, and I'm going up now to her house to see
her, on my way to the fort. I don't know what Duffy will get out of it;
perhaps he gets a few dollars out of the hauling. The coal is shipped,
by the way, and ought to be here any minute."

"Wait; I'll go with you," said Babcock, handing him an order for more
coal. "She hasn't sent down the tally-sheet for my last scow." There was
not the slightest necessity, of course, for Babcock to go to Grogan's
house for this document.

As they walked on, Crane talked of everything except what was uppermost
in Babcock's mind. Babcock tried to lead the conversation back to Tom,
but Crane's thoughts were on something else.

When they reached the top of the hill, the noble harbor lay spread out
beneath them, from the purple line of the great cities to the silver
sheen of the sea inside the narrows. The clearing wind had hauled to the
northwest. The sky was heaped w