e enough to
overcome their weariness. The girl saw clearly that something more
effective must be devised and done.

She puckered her forehead quizzically--after her manner when working out
a problem in arithmetic. After a little the wrinkles passed away, and
lifting her eyes for a moment from her frying pans, she called to
Captain Hallam:

"Would you mind coming here a minute?" she asked.

The man of affairs responded, wearily, but promptly.

"What is it, Barbara?"

"May I spend two thousand dollars, if I get this job done by
noon?--that's the last minute, Mr. Duncan tells me."

"But how can you----"

"Never mind how. May I have the two thousand dollars?"

"Yes--twenty thousand--any amount, if only we succeed in pushing that
car on rails across the county line before the clock strikes twelve."

"Very well. I'll see what I can do. Mr. Duncan, can you cook griddle
cakes?"

"Happily, yes," answered he. "I'm an old soldier, you know."

"Very well, then. Please come here and cook for a little while--just
till I get back. I won't be long."

Duncan took command of her two frying pans. A little amused smile
appeared on his face as he did so, in spite of his discouragement and
melancholy. But to the common sense and sincerity of the girl, there
seemed nothing ludicrous in setting him thus to the undignified work.
Intent upon her scheme, she darted away to where the several gangs of
men were still making some pretense of working. To each gang, she said:

"I've got two thousand dollars for you men, if you stick to your work
and finish it before noon to-day. I'll divide the money equally among
all the men who stick. It will be ten dollars apiece, or more. Of
course, you'll get your triple wages besides. Will you keep it up? It's
only for a few hours more."

Her tone was eager, and her manner almost piteously pleading. Without
the persuasiveness of her personal appeal, it is doubtful that the men
would have yielded to the temptation of the extra earning. Even with her
influence added, more than a third of them--those who had already cast
their tools aside and surrendered to exhaustion--refused to go on again
with a task to which they felt themselves hopelessly unequal. But in
every gang she addressed, there was a majority of men who braced
themselves anew, and responded. The very last of the gangs to whom she
made her appeal put their response into the form of a cheer, and
instantly the other gangs echoed it.

"W