"Come in and have a pot of tea with me," he said. "Ye know I'm partial to 'old maid's tipple' and Mrs. Grayson will have it ready about now, I s'pose. Stop! I'll tell her to bring it out on the side porch. It's shady there. You look like a cup would comfort you, Janice. What's the matter?"
"I've lots of troubles, Elder Concannon," she said, with a sigh. "But you have your share, too, so I'll keep most of mine to myself," and she hopped out from behind the wheel of the automobile.
They went to the porch and the elder halloaed in at the screen door.
His housekeeper soon bustled out with the tray. She remained to take
one cup of tea herself. Then, when she had gone about her duties,
Janice opened the subject upon which she had come to confer.
"How are those men getting on in your wood lot, Elder?"
"What men—and what lot?" he asked smiling.
"I don't know what lot it is; but I mean Mr. Trimmins and those others."
"Oh! Trimmins and Jim Narnay and that Besmith boy?"
"Yes."
"Why, they are moving on slowly. This is their third job with me since Winter. Once or twice they've kicked over the traces and gone on a spree——"
"That was when you paid them?"