d he saw that she was a little excited; her eyes always
told him. During this last week she had been carrying the whole
responsibility of the work on her shoulders.

"Have you seen this?" she asked.

"Haven't read a paper this week." He leaned over the desk beside her and
read the article. In Duluth harbor, and at St. Mary's straits, a channel
through the ice had been blasted out with dynamite, and the last laden
steamer was now ploughing down Lake Michigan. Already one steamer was
lying at the wharf by the marine tower, waiting for the machinery to
start, and others lay behind her, farther down the river. Long strings
of box cars filled the Belt Line sidings, ready to roll into the
elevator at the word.

Bannon seated himself on the railing, and caught his toes between the
supports.

"I'll tell you one thing," he said, "those fellows have got to get up
pretty early in the morning if they're going to beat old Page."

She looked at him, and then slowly folded the paper and turned toward
the window. It was nearly dark outside. The rain, driving down from the
northeast, tapped steadily on the glass. The arc lamp, on the pole near
the tool house, was a blurred circle of light. She was thinking that
they would have to get up pretty early to beat Charlie Bannon.

They were silent for a time--silences were not so hard as they had been,
a few weeks before--both looking out at the storm, and both thinking
that this was Christmas night. On the afternoon before he had asked her
to take a holiday, and she had shaken her head. "I couldn't--I'd be here
before noon," was what she had said; and she had laughed a little at her
own confession, and hurried away with Max.

She turned and said, "Is it done--the belt gallery?"

He nodded. "All done."

"Well----" she smiled; and he nodded again.

"The C. & S. C. man--the fellow that was around the other day and
measured to see if it was high enough--he's out there looking up with
his mouth open. He hasn't got much to say."

"You didn't have to touch the tracks at all?"

"Not once. Ran her out and bolted her together, and there she was. I'm
about ready for my month off. We'll have the wheat coming in to-morrow,
and then it's just walking down hill."

"To-morrow?" she asked. "Can you do it?"

"Got to. Five or six days aren't any too much. If it was an old house
and the machinery was working well, I'd undertake to do it in two or
three, but if we get through without ripping up t