WE used to meet on this rock when we was boys,” said Uncle William, sitting down, “—You remember them times, Andy?”

“I don’t remember nothin’,” said Andy. Uncle William looked at him. “I do’ ’no’ how you forget so easy.... I can see it all, just as plain as you be—settin’ there—you and me and Benjy, racing to get to this rock first—and planning suthin’—suthin’ ’t we hadn’t o’t to.... Seems kind o’ good to have Benjy back—just ’s if he ’d never been off the island?”

“He’s changed some,” said Andy. “Well—outside he’s peaked up a little—but inside, I can’t see a mite o’ difference. He gets mad just about ’s easy ’s ever,” said Uncle William contentedly.... “Now, this morning—” Uncle William moved his hand toward the horizon, “He’s gone over to his place, all kind o’ boilin’-like. He stopped and gazed at a figure that loomed on the horizon at the end of the long road. They watched the light, high-stepping figure come swiftly down the road.

“He’s got something on his mind,” said Uncle William, “I can see by the way his elbows act—kind o’ stiff so. I reckon that contractor does bother him—a good deal,” he added thoughtfully.

The man came on quickly, lessening his gait a little as he neared the rock, and taking off his hat to the breeze. “Feels good,” he said, nodding. He seated himself on the big rock. “Well—I’ve done it.” He turned his head slowly, taking in great whiffs of the fresh, bracing air. “I’ve fired him,” he said.

“You hev!” Uncle William’s face beamed. “That’s good—He’s fired him, Andy—”

“When’s he going to leave?” asked Andy.

“He’s going to leave just as soon as he can pack,” said Bodet with satisfaction, “He’s stood all he can—and so have I.” He threw out his thin legs and looked at them. “I don’t think I ever knew a man that irritated me the way he did,” he said reflectively.

“I see he kind o’ did,” said Uncle William.

Andy looked out to sea. “Harr’et was boardin’ him,” he said, “She was cal’-lating on the board money—right along.” His eye dropped to Bodet.

The man threw out an impatient leg.

“Now, don’t you mind about that,” said Uncle William hastily, “Benjy ’ll fix it up all right—He’s got to have somebody to build his house, and it’s got to be somebody that ’ll eat—somebody with a stomach.”

The thin man sat up, smiling a little.

“I wish to the Lord I knew whose stomach it was!” he said, “It’s like trying to build a house in heaven—having to import contractors and masons and plumbers—”

Uncle William chuckled—— “We gen’ally use the home-folks, round here,” he said after a pause.

Bodet looked at him a little. “You wouldn’t build a twenty-thousand dollar house just with the home-folks, would you!”

“I do’ ’no’ why not,” said Uncle William, “It ain’t so much different from any other house, fur as I see—just more of it—more spread. There’s George Manning,” he suggested.

“The carpenter?” Bodet’s lip smiled.

&l............