k a quick
glance of interrogation as he entered, and, receiving no answer, forgot
him instantly.

"Come, now, ye blatherin' Dagos,"--this time to two Italian shovelers
filling the buckets,--"shall I throw one of ye overboard to wake ye up,
or will I take a hand meself? Another shovel there--that bucket's not
half full"--drawing one hand from her side pocket and pointing with an
authoritative gesture, breaking as suddenly into a good-humored laugh
over the awkwardness of their movements.

Babcock, with all his curiosity aroused, watched her for a moment,
forgetting for the time his own anxieties. He liked a skilled hand, and
he liked push and grit. This woman seemed to possess all three. He was
amazed at the way in which she handled her men. He wished somebody as
clearheaded and as capable were unloading his boat. He began to wonder
who she might be. There was no mistaking her nationality. Slight as was
her accent, her direct descent from the land of the shamrock and the
shilla-lah was not to be doubted. The very tones of her voice seemed
saturated with its national spirit--"a flower for you when you agree
with me, and a broken head when you don't." But underneath all these
outward indications of dominant power and great physical strength he
detected in the lines of the mouth and eyes a certain refinement
of nature. There was, too, a fresh, rosy wholesomeness, a sweet
cleanliness, about the woman. These, added to the noble lines of her
figure, would have appealed to one as beauty, and only that had it not
been that the firm mouth, well-set chin, and deep, penetrating glance of
the eye overpowered all other impressions.

Babcock moved down beside her.

"Can you tell me, madam, where I can find Thomas Grogan?"

"Right in front of ye," she answered, turning quickly, with a toss of
her head like that of a great hound baffled in hunt. "I'm Tom Grogan.
What can I do for ye?"

"Not Grogan the stevedore?" Babcock asked in astonishment.

"Yes, Grogan the stevedore. Come! Make it short,--what can I do for ye?"

"Then this must be my boat. I came down"--

"Ye're not the boss?"--looking him over slowly from his feet up, a
good-natured smile irradiating her face, her eyes beaming, every tooth
glistening. "There's me hand, I'm glad to see ye. I've worked for ye off
and on for four years, and niver laid eyes on ye till this minute. Don't
say a word. I know it. I've kept the concrete gangs back half a day, but
I couldn't help