"How's Hilda going to take hold, Mr. Bannon?"
"First-class."
Max's eyes sparkled.
"She can do anything you give her. Her head's as clear as a bell."
For the moment Bannon made no reply, but as they paused outside the office door he said:
"We'd better make a point of dropping in at the office now and then during the day. Any time you know I'm out on the job and you're up this way, just look in."
Max nodded.
"And nights when we're working overtime, there won't be any trouble about your getting off long enough to see your sister home. She won't need to do any night work."
They entered the office. Miss Vogel was standing by the railing gate, buttoning her jacket and waiting for Max. Behind her, bending over the blue prints on the table, stood Peterson, apparently too absorbed to hear the two men come in. Bannon gave him a curious glance, for no blue prints were needed in working on the annex, which was simply a matter of building bins up from the foundation. When Max and his sister had gone the foreman looked around, and said, with a show of surprise:—
"Oh, hello, Charlie. Going up to the house?"