itla," said Eugene.

"Well, my name's Duncan. We'll bring this stuff to you and you pile it."

It was more heavy lumber, as Eugene apprehensively observed, quarter cut
joists for some building--"four by fours" they called them--but after he
was shown the art of handling them they were not unmanageable. There
were methods of sliding and balancing them which relieved him of a great
quantity of labor. Eugene had not thought to provide himself with gloves
though, and his hands were being cruelly torn. He stopped once to pick a
splinter out of his thumb and Jeffords, who was coming up, asked, "Ain't
cha got no gloves?"

"No," said Eugene, "I didn't think to get any."

"Your hands'll get pretty well bunged up, I'm afraid. Maybe Joseph'll
let you have his for to-day, you might go in and ask him."

"Where's Joseph?" asked Eugene.

"He's inside there. He's taking from the plane."

Eugene did not understand this quite. He knew what a plane was, had been
listening to it sing mightily all the morning, the shavings flying as it
smoothed the boards, but _taking_?

"Where's Joseph?" he asked of the plane driver.

He nodded his head to a tall hump-shouldered boy of perhaps twenty-two.
He was a big, simple, innocent looking fellow. His face was long and
narrow, his mouth wide, his eyes a watery blue, his hair a shock of
brown, loose and wavy, with a good sprinkling of sawdust in it. About
his waist was a big piece of hemp bagging tied by a grass rope. He wore
an old faded wool cap with a long visor in order to shield his eyes from
the flying chips and dust, and when Eugene came in one hand was lifted
protectingly to shield his eyes. Eugene approached him deprecatingly.

"One of the men out in the yard said that you might have a pair of
gloves you would lend me for to-day. I'm piling lumber and it's tearing
my hands. I forgot to get a pair."

"Sure," said Joseph genially waving his hand to the driver to stop.
"They're over here in my locker. I know what that is. I been there. When
I come here they rubbed it into me jist as they're doin' to you. Doncher
mind. You'll come out all right. Up here for your health, are you? It
ain't always like that. Somedays there ain't most nothin' to do here.
Then somedays ag'in there's a whole lot. Well, it's good healthy work, I
can say that. I ain't most never sick. Nice fresh air we git here and
all that."

He rambled on, fumbling under his bagging apron for his keys, unlocking
his locker