alled in the laborers and shouted
to Max. But when the box, slowly descending, appeared below the bin
walls, it was Peterson who held the line and chatted with Hilda as he
steadied her.

The next day a lot of cribbing came from Ledyard, and Bannon at once set
about reorganizing his forces so that work could go on night and day. He
and Peterson would divide the time equally into twelve-hour days; but
three divisions were necessary for the men, the morning shift working
from midnight until eight o'clock, the day shift from eight to four, and
the night shift from four to midnight.

Finally, when the whistle blew, at noon, Bannon tipped back his chair
and pushed his hat back on his head.

"Well," he said, "that's fixed."

"When will we begin on it?" Peterson asked.

"To-day. Have the whistle blow at four. It'll make some of the men work
overtime to-day, but we'll pay them for it."

Miss Vogel was putting on her jacket. Before joining Max, who was
waiting at the door, she asked:--

"Do you want me to make any change in my work, Mr. Bannon?"

"No, you'd better go ahead just as you are. We won't try to cut you up
into three shifts yet awhile. We can do what letters and accounts we
have in the daytime."

She nodded and left the office.

All through the morning's work Peterson had worn a heavy, puzzled
expression, and now that they had finished, he seemed unable to throw it
off. Bannon, who had risen and was reaching for his ulster, which he had
thrown over the railing, looked around at him.

"You and I'll have to make twelve-hour days of it, you know," he said.
He knew, from his quick glance and the expression almost of relief that
came over his face, that this was what Peterson had been waiting for.
"You'd better come on in the evening, if it's all the same to you--at
seven. I'll take it in the morning and keep an eye on it during the
day."

Peterson's eyes had lowered at the first words. He swung one leg over
the other and picked up the list of carpenters that Max had made out,
pretending to examine it. Bannon was not watching him closely, but he
could have read the thoughts behind that sullen face. If their
misunderstanding had arisen from business conditions alone, Bannon would
have talked out plainly. But now that Hilda had come between them, and
particularly that it was all so vague--a matter of feeling, and not at
all of reason--he had decided to say nothing. It was important that he
should control the wo