nk down, her chin
resting on her hand. Twelve or fifteen thousand dollars! This meant
ruin to everybody--to her father, to--a new terror now flashed into
her mind--to Jack--yes, Jack! Jack would have to go away and find other
work--and just at the time, too, when he was getting to be the old Jack
once more. With this came another thought, followed by an instantaneous
decision--what could she do to help? Already she had determined on her
course. She would work--support herself--relieve her father just that
much.

An uncomfortable silence followed. For some moments no one spoke. Her
father, stifling a sigh, turned slowly, pushed a chair to the fire and
settled into it, his rubber-encased knees wide apart, so that the warmth
of the blaze could reach most of his body. Jack found a seat beside him,
his mind on Ruth and her evident suffering, his ears alert for any fresh
word from his Chief.

"I forgot to tell you, Breen," MacFarlane said at last, "that I came up
the track just now as far as the round-house with the General Manager of
the Road. He has sent one of his engineers to look after that Irishman's
job before he can pull it to pieces to hide his rotten work--that is,
what is left of it. Of course it means a lawsuit or a fight in the
Village Council. That takes time and money, and generally costs more
than you get. I've been there before, Breen, and know."

"Does he understand about McGowan's contract?" inquired Jack
mechanically, his eyes on Ruth. Her voice still rang in his ears--its
pathos and suffering stirred him to his very depths.

"Yes--I told him all about it," MacFarlane replied. "The Road will stand
behind us--so the General Manager says--but every day's delay is ruinous
to them. It will be night-and-day work for us now, and no let-up. I have
notified the men." He rose from his seat and crossed to his daughter's
side, and leaning over, drew her toward him: "Brace up, little girl,"
there was infinite tenderness in his cadences--"it's all in a lifetime.
There are only two of us, you know--just you and me, daughter--just you
and me--just two of us. Kiss me, Puss."

Regaining his full height he picked up his storm-coat from the chair
where he had flung it, and with the remark to Jack, that he would change
his clothes, moved toward the door. There he beckoned to him, waited
until he had reached his side, and whispering in his ear: "Talk to her
and cheer her up, Breen. Poor little girl--she worries so when an