alls had been raised more than a foot above the
foundation, which gave it the appearance of a great checker-board.

"Looks like business, doesn't it," said Max. He was a little excited,
for now there was to be no more delaying until the elevator should stand
completed from the working floor to the top, one hundred and sixty feet
above the ground; until engines, conveyors, and scales should be working
smoothly and every bin filled with grain. Indeed, nearly everybody on
the job had by this time caught the spirit of energy that Bannon had
infused into the work.

"I'll be glad when it gets up far enough to look like something, so we
can feel that things are really getting on."

"They're getting on all right," Bannon replied.

"How soon will we be working on the cupola?"

"To-morrow."

"To-morrow!" Max stopped (they had started toward the office) and looked
at Bannon in amazement. "Why, we can't do it, can we?"

"Why not?" Bannon pointed toward a cleared space behind the pile of
cribbing, where the carpenters had been at work on the heavy timbers.
"They're all ready for the framing."

Max made no reply, but he looked up as they passed the elevator and
measured with his eyes the space remaining between the cribbing and the
tops of the posts. He had yet to become accustomed to Bannon's methods;
but he had seen enough of him to believe that it would be done if Bannon
said so.

They were halfway to the office when Max said, with a touch of
embarrassment:--

"How's Hilda going to take hold, Mr. Bannon?"

"First-class."

Max's eyes sparkled.

"She can do anything you give her. Her head's as clear as a bell."

For the moment Bannon made no reply, but as they paused outside the
office door he said:

"We'd better make a point of dropping in at the office now and then
during the day. Any time you know I'm out on the job and you're up this
way, just look in."

Max nodded.

"And nights when we're working overtime, there won't be any trouble
about your getting off long enough to see your sister home. She won't
need to do any night work."

They entered the office. Miss Vogel was standing by the railing gate,
buttoning her jacket and waiting for Max. Behind her, bending over the
blue prints on the table, stood Peterson, apparently too absorbed to
hear the two men come in. Bannon gave him a curious glance, for no blue
prints were needed in working on the annex, which was simply a matter of
building bins up from the