Paul himself went over the job to make sure that it had been thoroughly
done, and that nothing remained uncared for.

Up to this time fortune had favored the busy workers, since no sound had
come about to betray their presence.

"How is it, Paul?" asked Jack Stormways, as he ran across the other in
making his rounds.

"About at the end. The boys are putting the old tools back where they
found them; and then we can go home. It's the best half hour's work
any of us have done for a good while, I tell you, Jack."

"Some of the boys don't seem to think it quite so funny now as when they
started in. They say they can't see where the pay is going to come in,
and have begun to grumble," whispered the other.

"Perhaps it never will, and again, who knows what might come out of this?
Anyhow, the ladies will be glad to see this dirty place clean for once.
Some others I know may take a notion that if Old Growdy can clean up they
ought to. Listen! what in the world is that?"

A rattling of tin pans came to their ears, as if one of the boys in
prowling around had accidently upset a bench on which a milk bucket and
some flat tinware had been airing.

"That settles it! He'll hear all that row and be out on us in a jiffy!"
said Paul, annoyed because the affair had not gone off according to
schedule.