e same as stealing my money. And you stole something
else--my trust--which is worth more to me than my money. But I suppose
that is something you can't understand."

"I un'erstan's when I ain't wanted," answered Smith, with an ugly
laugh. "I'll git my time an' git out."

Then Jonathan's trouble found voice in a sharp querulous outburst.

"Yes, get your time. I'm tired keeping men who won't help themselves."

Smith vanished, and his surly ugly face was only the reflection of the
ugliness just then in his heart.

"You, too, Hegner!" Jonathan turned blazing eyes on his foreman.
"You've been drinking again, when you promised me--"

"You ain't more disgusted than me." Big Hegner, ashamed, looked down
at his feet. "But I couldn't help it. Honest, I couldn't.
Everything's been goin' wrong here for a week."

Jonathan's outburst ended as suddenly as it began. "I know," he said
wearily. "I know."

An hour later David, seeking Jonathan on a matter that was only a
pretext, found him idle, elbows on the desk and head propped in his
hands. Jonathan looked up listlessly. The matter disposed of, David
ventured, uncertainly, because he had learned the last week to remember
that he was an employee as well as a friend.

"Mr. Radbourne, are you ill?"

"No."

"I'm afraid something's wrong."

"Something's wrong, David."

"I hope it is something that can be easily mended."

"I'm afraid it can't." Jonathan looked at him queerly. "I'm afraid
the damage has been done. Will you please go to the shop and see if
Smith is anywhere around?"

David departed, to return with the word that Smith was gone.

"Ah! I'm sorry. I owe him an apology and some amends. A little while
ago I lost my temper and did him an injustice, when he needed to be
helped. I had no excuse. But it hurts to be disappointed in a man."
Jonathan looked queerly at David again. "In any one, David."

"I have found that out," answered David.

Jonathan picked up some papers. "If you will excuse me now--I have
some work--"

David took the hint promptly, with the feeling that somehow he had been
the one to disappoint his friend. That hurt as deeply as it puzzled.

That afternoon Jonathan went out for two hours. When he returned he
summoned Esther to his office.

"Miss Summers," he began abruptly, "how is the voice?"

"I'm afraid--"

"You must be afraid of nothing," he interrupted.

"I'm afraid," she repeated quietly, "I have come to a s