"I'm pretty busy right here, Mr. Joe."
"I know," he reflected. "And I guess Miss Craig could do it."
He opened the stove door, took the tiny shovel, stuck it into the coal-box, and threw some fresh coal on the lividly red embers. Then he stood up and gazed round the circle again.
"Sally," he said, "it's your work—you'll have to go."
She bowed her head.
"You're sure," she murmured, "I'm not needed here?"
"Needed?" he mused. "Yes. But needed more over there!"
She looked up at him and met his eyes. Her own were pleading with him.
"Surely?"
"Surely, Sally. We're not in this game for fun, are we?"