Andy edged away. "Can't stop," he said. He was searching with his foot
for the ladder.

"What you going to do?" demanded Uncle William.

Andy glanced at the sky. "I'm going to take in the _Andrew Halloran_."
He was already on his way down the ladder.

Uncle William pursued him, peering over. "You'll have to have me to help
ye, Andy. Can't you jest wait till to-morrow--till I get my chimbley
done?"

"You've been a month now," said Andy. He was glowering at the bay and
the little boat bobbing below.

"I know it, Andy, I know it." Uncle William was descending the ladder
with slow care. "But I don't want my mortar to freeze, and I'm kind o'
'fraid of its comin' off cold again to-night. I was jest goin' to begin
to hurry up. I was goin' to begin to-day."

"I can get along without you," said Andrew, doggedly.

"Why, no, you can't, Andy. How you goin' to haul her up?" Uncle William
spoke reproachfully.

Andy moved away. "I can do it, I guess." He was mumbling it to his
teeth. "I don't need anybody's help."

With a sigh and a look of affection at the platform and the pail and the
blue sky above, Uncle William followed him down the rocky path.