If you had walked to the east end of the building, here and there balancing along a plank or dodging through gangs of laborers and around moving timbers, you would have seen stretching from off a point not halfway through to the ground, the annex bins, rising so steadily that it was a matter only of a few weeks before they would be ready to receive grain. Now another walk, this time across the building to the north side, would show you the river house, out there on the wharf, and the marine tower rising up through the middle with a single arc lamp on the topmost girder throwing a mottled, checkered shadow on the wharf and the water below. At a little after eight o'clock, Peterson, who had been looking at the stairway, now nearly completed, came out on the distributing floor. He was in good spirits, for everything was going well, and Bannon had frankly credited him, of late, with the improvement in the work of the night shifts. He stood looking up through the upper floors of the cupola, and he did not see Max until the timekeeper stood beside him. "Hello, Max," he said. "We'll have the roof on here in another ten days." Max followed Peterson's glance upward. "I guess that's right. It begins to look as if things was coming 'round all right. I just come up from the office. Mr. Bannon's there. He'll be up before long, he says. I was a-wondering if maybe I hadn't ought to go back and tell him about Grady. He's around, you know." "Who? Grady?" "Yes. Him and another fellow was standing down by one of the cribbin' piles. I was around there on the way up." "What was they doing?" "Nothing. Just looking on." Peterson turned to shout at some laborers, then he pushed back his hat and scratched his head. "I don't know but what you'd ought to 'a' told Charlie right off. That man Grady don't mean us no good." "I know it, but I wasn't just sure." "Well, I'll tell you----" Before Peterson could finish, Max broke in:-- "That's him." "Where?" "That fellow over there, walking along slow. He's the one that was with Grady." "I'd like to know what he thinks he's doing here." Peterson started forward, adding, "I guess I know what to say to him." "Hold on, Pete," said Max, catching his arm. "Maybe we'd better speak to Mr. Bannon. I'll go down and tell him, and you keep an eye on this fellow." Peterson reluctantly assented, and Max walked slowly away, now and then pausing to look around at the men. But when he had nearly reached the stairway, where he could slip behind the scaffolding about the only scale hopper that had reached a man's height above the floor, he moved more rapidly. He met Bannon on the stairway, and told him what he had seen. Bannon leaned against the wall of the stairway bin, and looked thoughtful. "So he's come, has he?" was his only comment. "You might speak to Pete, Max, and bring him here. I'll wait." Max and Peterson found him looking over the work of the carpenters.