reaches of the pond. Above, the sky's day surface unfolded and
receded and dissolved and melted away until, through the pale
afterglow, one saw beyond into the infinities. Down by the sluice a
dozen lanterns flickered and blinked yellow against the blue-
blackness of the night.

After some time Orde called his crew off and opened the sluice-
gates. The water had become too deep for effective work, and a half
hour's flow would reduce the pressure. The time was occupied in
eating and in drying off about the huge fire the second cookee had
built close at hand.

"Water cold, boys?" asked Orde.

"Some," was his reply.

"Want to quit?" he inquired, with mock solicitude.

"Nary quit."

Orde's shout of laughter broke the night silence of the whispering
breeze and the rushing water.

"We'll stick to 'em like death to a dead nigger," was his comment.

Newmark, having extracted a kind of cardigan jacket from the bag he
had brought with him as far as the mill, looked at the smooth, iron-
black water and shivered.

When the meal was finished, the men lit their pipes and went back to