dy talk
around. I don't think he more'n half knows what it means. I'd promised
not to tell, you know, but I just saw there wasn't no use trying to make
him understand things without talking pretty plain. There ain't a thing
he wouldn't do for Hilda now----"

"Max," said Hilda again, "please don't."

When they reached the house, Max at once started in. Hilda hesitated,
and then said:--

"I'll come in a minute, Max."

"Oh," he replied, "all right" But he waited a moment longer, evidently
puzzled.

"Well," said Bannon, "was it so hard?"

"No--not hard exactly. I didn't know he was so poor. Somehow you don't
think about it that way when you see them working. I don't know that I
ever thought about it at all before."

"You think he won't give us any trouble?"

"I'm sure he won't. I--I had to promise I'd go again pretty soon."

"Maybe you'll let me go along."

"Why--why, yes, of course."

She had been hesitating, looking down and picking at the splinters on
the gate post. Neither was Bannon quick to speak. He did not want to
question her about the visit, for he saw that it was hard for her to
talk about it. Finally she straightened up and looked at him.

"I want to tell you," she said, "I haven't understood exactly until
to-night--what they said about the accident and the way you've talked
about it--well, some people think you don't think very much about the
men, and that if anybody's hurt, or anything happens, you don't care as
long as the work goes on." She was looking straight at him. "I thought
so, too. And to-night I found out some things you've been doing for
him--how you've been giving him tobacco, and the things he likes best
that I'd never have thought of, and I knew it was you that did it, and
not the Company--and I--I beg your pardon."

Bannon did not know what to reply. They stood for a moment without
speaking, and then she smiled, and said "Good night," and ran up the
steps without looking around.

CHAPTER XIII

It was the night of the tenth of December. Three of the four stories of
the cupola were building, and the upright posts were reaching toward the
fourth. It still appeared to be a confused network of timbers, with only
the beginnings of walls, but as the cupola walls are nothing but a shell
of light boards to withstand the wind, the work was further along than
might have been supposed. Down on the working story the machinery was
nearly all in, and up here in the cupola the scales