gh the window. "That's the
shed over there--the middle one. The boss'll give you some tools till
you get yours."

"Thank you." The man put on his cap and went out.

"Well, I'll be hanged!" was all the manager said as he looked after the
applicant. Then he rose, went to the office door and watched the man
making his way through the stone-yards towards the sheds. "Well, boys,"
he said further, turning to the two men bending over the plans, "that
suit ain't exactly a misfit, but it hasn't seen the light of day for a
good many years--and it's the same with the man. What in thunder is he
doing in the sheds! Did he say anything specially to you before I came
in?"

"No; only he seemed mighty interested in the plans, examined the detail
of some of them--as if he knew."

"We'll keep our eyes on him." The manager went back to his desk.

IV

Perhaps the dreariest environment imaginable is a stone-cutters' shed on
a bleak day in the first week in March. The large ones stretching along
the north shore of Lake Mesantic are no exception to this statement. A
high wind from the northeast was driving before it particles of ice, and
now and then a snow flurry. It penetrated every crack and crevice of the
huge buildings, the second and largest of which covered a ground space
of more than an acre. Every gust made itself both felt and heard among
the rafters. Near the great doors the granite dust whirled in eddies.

At this hour in the afternoon Shed Number Two was a study in black and
gray and white. Gray dust several inches thick spread underfoot; all
about were gray walls, gray and white granite piles, gray columns,
arches, uncut blocks, heaps of granite waste, gray workmen in gray
blouses and canvas aprons covered with gray dust. In one corner towered
the huge gray-black McDonald machine in mighty strength, its multiple
revolving arms furnished with gigantic iron fists which manipulate the
unyielding granite with Herculean automatonism--an invention of the
film-like brain of man to conquer in a few minutes the work of nature's
aeons! Gray-black overhead stretched the running rails for the monster
electric travelling crane; some men crawling out on them looked like
monkeys. Here and there might be seen the small insignificant "Lewis
Key"--a thing that may be held on a woman's palm--sustaining a granite
weight of many tons.

There were three hundred men at work in this shed, and the ringing
_chip-chip-chipping_ monotone from th