"No," returned Mike triumphantly. "There ain't no other place for mother to sleep, but there is a place we could put the stove, and that's outside." "What in?" inquired Pat gloomily. "What in? In nothin', of course. There's nothin' there. But couldn't we stick in four poles and put old boards across so's the stove would be covered, and run the pipe out of a hole in the top?" "We might," returned Pat, "but you'll have to make up your mind to get wet a-cookin' more days than one. All the rains don't come straight down. There's them that drives under. And you'd have to be carrying the things in through the wet when you got 'em cooked, too." "And what of that?" asked Mike. "Do you think I care for that? What's me gettin' wet to makin' mother comfortable? There's July and August comin' yet, and June only begun." Pat looked at his brother admiringly, though the semi-darkness did not permit his expression to be seen. "We'll do it!" said he. "I'll help you dig the holes for the posts and all. We'll begin to-morrow evenin'. I know Mrs. Brady will let me come when my work's done." CHAPTER X The next morning Pat went about with a preoccupied air. But all his work was done with his accustomed dispatch and skill, nevertheless. "What is on my boy's mind?" thought Mrs. Brady. Yes, that is what she thought--"_my_ boy." And just then Pat looked into the sitting-room with his basket on his arm. "I'll just be doin' the marketin' now, ma'am," he said. "Very well," smiled Mrs. Brady. "Here's a rose for your buttonhole. You look very trim this morning." Pat blushed with pleasure, and, advancing, took the flower. The poor Irish boy had instinctively dainty tastes, and the love of flowers was one of them. But even before the blossom was made fast, the preoccupied look returned. "Mrs. Brady, ma'am, would you care if I stopped at the lumber yard while I'm down town? I'd like to be gettin' some of their cheapest lumber sent home this afternoon." "Why, no, Pat. Stop, of course." Pat was encouraged. "I know I was out last night," he said. "But could I be goin' again this evenin' after my work's done? Mike's got a job on hand that I want to help him at." "Yes, Pat." "You see, ma'am," said the boy gratefully, "we're goin' to rig up something to put the cook-stove in so as mother will be cooler. It's too hot for her sleepin' in the kitchen." Mrs. Brady looked thoughtful. Then she said: "You are such a good, dutiful boy to me, Pat, that I think I must reconsider my permission. Lunch is prepared. You may go home as soon as you have finished your marketing and help Mike till it is time to get dinner. We will have something simple, so you need not be back until four this afternoon, and you may go again this evening to finish what remains to be done." "Mrs. Brady, ma'am," cried Pat from his heart, "you're next to the General, that's what you are, and I thank you."