``And though it means nothing to you,'' he said, ``and though as you say I am here as your father's employee, there are other places, perhaps, where I am better known.In Edinburgh or Berlin or Paris, if you were to ask the people of my own profession, they could tell you something of me.If I wished it, I could drop this active work tomorrow and continue as an adviser, as an expert, but I like the active part better.I like doing things myself.I don't say, `I am a salaried servant of Mr.Langham's;'
I put it differently.I say, `There are five mountains of iron.
You are to take them up and transport them from South America to North America, where they will be turned into railroads and ironclads.' That's my way of looking at it.It's better to bind a laurel to the plough than to call yourself hard names.It makes your work easier--almost noble.Cannot you see it that way, too?''
Before Miss Langham could answer, a deprecatory cough from one side of the open boat-house startled them, and turning they saw MacWilliams coming toward them.They had been so intent upon what Clay was saying that he had approached them over the soft sand of the beach without their knowing it.Miss Langham welcomed his arrival with evident pleasure.
``The launch is waiting for you at the end of the pier,''
MacWilliams said.Miss Langham rose and the three walked together down the length of the wharf, MacWilliams moving briskly in advance in order to enable them to continue the conversation he had interrupted, but they followed close behind him, as though neither of them were desirous of such an opportunity.
Hope and King had both come for Miss Langham, and while the latter was helping her to a place on the cushions, and repeating his regrets that the men were not coming also, Hope started the launch, with a brisk ringing of bells and a whirl of the wheel and a smile over her shoulder at the figures on the wharf.
``Why didn't you go?'' said Clay; ``you have no business at the Custom-House.''
``Neither have you,'' said MacWilliams.``But I guess we both understand.There's no good pushing your luck too far.''
``What do you mean by that--this time?''
``Why, what have we to do with all of this?'' cried MacWilliams.
``It's what I keep telling you every day.We're not in that class, and you're only ****** it harder for yourself when they've gone.I call it cruelty to animals myself, having women like that around.Up North, where everybody's white, you don't notice it so much, but down here--Lord!''
``That's absurd,'' Clay answered.``Why should you turn your back on civilization when it comes to you, just because you're not going back to civilization by the next steamer? Every person you meet either helps you or hurts you.Those girls help us, even if they do make the life here seem bare and mean.''
``Bare and mean!'' repeated MacWilliams incredulously.``I think that's just what they don't do.I like it all the better because they're mixed up in it.I never took so much interest in your mines until she took to riding over them, and I didn't think great shakes of my old ore-road, either, but now that she's got to acting as engineer, it's sort of nickel-plated the whole outfit.I'm going to name the new engine after her--when it gets here--if her old man will let me.''
``What do you mean? Miss Langham hasn't been to the mines but once, has she?''
``Miss Langham!'' exclaimed MacWilliams.``No, I mean the other, Miss Hope.She comes out with Ted nearly every day now, and she's learning how to run a locomotive.Just for fun, you know,'' he added, reassuringly.
``I didn't suppose she had any intention of joining the Brotherhood,'' said Clay.``So she's been out every day, has she? I like that,'' he commented, enthusiastically.``She's a fine, sweet girl.''
``Fine, sweet girl!'' growled MacWilliams.``I should hope so.