"Come, Matt! Come, Jimmie! Get the shovels now! Get the picks!" he heard
him shout. "Bring some sand here! Bring some stone! Where's the cement
now? Where's the cement? Jasus Christ! I must have some cement. What
arre ye all doing? Hurry now, hurry! Bring the cement."

"Well, he knows how to give orders," commented Eugene to Big John, who
was standing near. "He certainly does," replied the latter.

To himself Eugene observed, hearing only the calls at first, "the Irish
brute." Later he discovered a subtle twinkle in Deegan's eyes as he
stood brazenly in the door, looking defiantly about. There was no
brutality in it, only self-confidence and a hearty Irish insistence on
the necessity of the hour.

"Well, you're a dandy!" commented Eugene boldly after a time, and
laughed.

"Ha! ha! ha!" mocked Deegan in return. "If you had to work as harred as
these men you wouldn't laugh."

"I'm not laughing at them. I'm laughing at you," explained Eugene.

"Laugh," said Deegan. "Shure you're as funny to me as I am to you."

Eugene laughed again. The Irishman agreed with himself that there was
humor in it. He laughed too. Eugene patted his big rough shoulder with
his hands and they were friends immediately. It did not take Deegan long
to find out from Big John why he was there and what he was doing.

"An arrtist!" he commented. "Shewer he'd better be outside than in. The
loikes of him packin' shavin's and him laughin' at me."

Big John smiled.

"I believe he wants to get outside," he said.

"Why don't he come with me, then? He'd have a foine time workin' with
the guineas. Shewer 'twould make a man av him--a few months of
that"--and he pointed to Angelo Esposito shoveling clay.

Big John thought this worth reporting to Eugene. He did not think that
he wanted to work with the guineas, but he might like to be with Deegan.
Eugene saw his opportunity. He liked Deegan.

"Would you like to have an artist who's looking for health come and work
for you, Deegan?" Eugene asked genially. He thought Deegan might refuse,
but it didn't matter. It was worth the trial.

"Shewer!" replied the latter.

"Will I have to work with the Italians?"

"There'll be plenty av work for ye to do without ever layin' yer hand to
pick or shovel unless ye want to. Shewer that's no work fer a white man
to do."

"And what do you call them, Deegan? Aren't they white?"

"Shewer they're naat."

"What are they, then? They're not black."

"Nagurs, of c