lean set jaw of the practical engineer. But to-night he was weak as a little child. Just the half-laugh of one of the men that he ruled had overset his strength for the time.
“It’s a great thing to be a man, isn’t it?” he said, indistinctly. “And to slave out your soul to do your work honestly—and to get no credit—no help———”
“This isn’t the talk ye gave Randal an’ me once, Ormond. Where’s yer belief in yersilf gone tu, bhoy?”
Ormond laughed hysterically.
“Oh, go on! Go on! Tell me how much we’ve got to thank God for!”
“Ut’s yersilf hasn’t much, if that’s all the spirit that’s in ye. Let it go, then. Ut’s a man’s worrk, an’ not yours at all, at all.”
Father Denis knew when to use the whip. But it did not rouse Ormond.
“I can’t,” he said. “I’ve given her so much that I—I can’t go back on her. She’s had seven years of my life, and I believe she knows it. I could never work for another claim as I’ve worked for her. You don’t know what it is to fight for her back in the hills when the rains are stripping the faces, and there’s an even chance of losing half the race in a few minutes. I’ve done that six times this year. And the flume up near the pent-stock is getting shaky—I was up to my middle in it most of to-
