and producing a great pair of old yellow lumber gloves. He
gave them to Eugene cheerfully and the latter thanked him. He liked
Eugene at once and Eugene liked him. "A nice fellow that," he said, as
he went back to his car. "Think of how genially he gave me these.
Lovely! If only all men were as genial and kindly disposed as this boy,
how nice the world would be." He put on the gloves and found his work
instantly easier for he could grasp the joists firmly and without pain.
He worked on until noon when the whistle blew and he ate a dreary lunch
sitting by himself on one side, pondering. After one he was called to
carry shavings, one basket after another back through the blacksmith
shop to the engine room in the rear where was a big shaving bin. By four
o'clock he had seen almost all the characters he was going to associate
with for the time that he stayed there. Harry Fornes, the blacksmith or
"the village smith," as Eugene came to call him later on, Jimmy Sudds,
the blacksmith's helper or "maid-of-all-work" as he promptly named him;
John Peters, the engineer, Malachi Dempsey, the driver of the great
plane, Joseph Mews and, in addition, carpenters, tin-smiths, plumbers,
painters, and those few exceptional cabinet makers who passed through
the lower floor now and then, men who were about the place from time to
time and away from it at others all of whom took note of Eugene at first
as a curiosity.

Eugene was himself intensely interested in the men. Harry Fornes and
Jimmy Sudds attracted him especially. The former was an undersized
American of distant Irish extraction who was so broad chested, swollen
armed, square-jawed and generally self-reliant and forceful as to seem a
minor Titan. He was remarkably industrious, turning out a great deal of
work and beating a piece of iron with a resounding lick which could be
heard all about the hills and hollows outside. Jimmy Sudds, his
assistant, was like his master equally undersized, dirty, gnarled,
twisted, his teeth showing like a row of yellow snags, his ears standing
out like small fans, his eye askew, but nevertheless with so genial a
look in his face as to disarm criticism at once. Every body liked Jimmy
Sudds because he was honest, single-minded and free of malicious intent.
His coat was three and his trousers two times too large for him, and his
shoes were obviously bought at a second-hand store, but he had the vast
merit of being a picture. Eugene was fascinated with him.