re's face had grown. Bertie's eyes, too, were red
and swollen with crying. What could it mean?

"Mr. Grant," began Mr. Curtis, "can you tell me whether the head mason
down there is a habitual drunkard?"

"He has the name of it, Squire, I'm sorry to say," answered Tom, greatly
confused.

"Wait a moment, I may need you;" and Mr. Curtis walked quickly down the
bulkhead into the cellar.

The mason who had been drinking was sitting on a stone, holding his
hand to his head. The other one kept on with his work though he could
do nothing to advantage alone.

Mr. Curtis picked up the bottle, and, holding it in his fingers, said to
the sober man,--

"Do you use this vile stuff?"

"No, sir; not a drop. I see too much of it to want to put myself in the
power of any kind of liquor."

"Do you live with Jerrold?"

"Yes, sir, he's a second cousin to my father. He could be a rich man,
sir, if he'd let drink alone."

"He has done his last day's work for me. I _will not_ employ a man who
swears or makes a beast of himself with liquor. If you have a mind to
work and can comply with my conditions, you may get an assistant and
take Jerrold's place. I shall know in a few days whether you are capable
of carrying on the whole job."

"I thank you, sir, all the same; but it'll be a terrible disappointment
to Jerrold. His wife is a good woman; and she'll take it to heart
terribly. He was overcome with liquor, and didn't know what he said to
the boy."

"My son has told me nothing," explained Mr. Curtis. "I saw him throw the
bottle in your face; and I heard what you said to him. I should wish
your answer at once, whether you would choose to go on with the work."

"Yes, sir, I'll take it and do the best I can, and much obleeged for the
chance."

Tom, all this time, had stood on the top of the bank where he could
hear every word. His face looked very sober as he turned back to his
oxen, and he said to himself,--

"There's a lesson for you, Tom Grant. You may thank your old mother that
you haven't tasted a drop of spirits for a year."

"Now, Bertie; jump on the drag," said Mr. Curtis, in a cheerful tone.
"Jerry is waiting by the lake for you; and I'll show you what a trench
is."

Bertie obeyed; but his father saw it was hard for him to keep back his
tears. The gentleman walked along with Tom, talking about the work as
if nothing unpleasant had occurred; but it was evident that the man was
thinking of something else.

At last,