"Is it?"
"Yep! They made a compromise—that's what they call it when the fellers on top get together and deal it out so the men lose."
"I suppose, then, you will be going back to the city when you finish the work here?" Adelle asked.
"Maybe—I dunno—got some money comin' to me"—Adelle's guilty heart stood quite still. "I ain't drawed a cent on this job so far," he added to her relief. "Perhaps I'll blow in what's coming to me in goin' East to see where my folks used to live in Alton."
He spoke half in jest, but Adelle replied faintly,—
"That might be a good idea."
"I heard from one of my sisters while I was gone. She's in Philadelphy—married to a feller there that works in the carpet mills. I ain't seen her for more 'n ten years—might stop in Philadelphy, too."
Adelle was curious to know whether this was the sister who "had gone wrong," but did not know how to phrase the question. After a time, she felt the temptation to tell the mason what she knew becoming intolerable. Her mind hovered about her secret as a bird hovers over a great void; she was irresistibly drawn to the fatal plunge. She moved off while she yet felt the power to do so without speaking. Her cousin looked up in some surprise.
"You goin'?" he asked.
"Let me know before you start East," she called back to him. "Perhaps I could do something to help you on your trip."