She
asked the contractor about him, but the boss merely shrugged his
shoulders and said that somebody had seen the man getting on the late
Saturday night train for the city.

"It's too bad," he added, to punish Adelle for interfering in his
business. "He was a mighty good worker, and you don't get that kind
often these days. I'd rather have him than any four of these dagoes."

He waved a disdainful arm at the squad of sons of sunny Italy who were
toiling along the wall.

Adelle did not forget the young stone mason, but she could do nothing
more for him even had she known just what to do. Then one morning when
she made her usual rounds, she was happily surprised to find him back on
the job, working as was his wont a little to one side of his foreign
mates with his own helper. His face looked as red as ever, and his eyes
were also suspiciously red, but this was the only evidence of his spree
that she could see. As Adelle advanced to the place where he was
working, the mason glanced up and replied gruffly to her greeting,--

"Morning, ma'am!"

She knew that he was not ashamed of himself, merely embarrassed. And she
thought that if he had not felt kindly to her, he would not have come
back to Highcourt to work after his spree--or was it, perhaps, his
pleasant shack on the hill that lured him to his old job? Adelle did not
tell him that she was glad to see him back, but passed on without
stopping. Presently, however, when his helper had disappeared for a load
of mortar she came back to the place and watched him. He worked as
steadily and swiftly as ever, his lithe bronze arm lifting the stones
accurately to their places, his wrist giving a practiced flip to each
trowel full of mortar, which landed it on the right spot. Adelle wanted
to talk to him again, to ask him questions, but did not know how to
begin. Apparently he meant to let her make all the advances.

"That's fascinating work," she said at length.

He flipped a fresh dab of mortar to place and replied,--

"You might think so lookin' on--but no work is fascinatin' when you've
had too much of it. I've laid enough stone to last me a lifetime."

"What else had you rather do?"

"Oh," he said, pausing a moment to wipe the sweat from his face with the
back of his shirt-sleeve, "'Most anything at times! I tried mining once,
but it's worse and uncertain. And lumbering--no pay. When I was a kid I
wanted to be a doctor--that's before I left school. A nice sort of
d