The men filled their pipes with tobacco cut from black plugs, and chatted with each other and the boys, whom they drew hospitably into their group. Dan played several airs upon his harmonica, to their great delight, and Paul described the wonders of New York, which Amos always endeavored to discount with descriptions of what he considered the greater wonders of London. When bedtime finally came, Tammas stepped out of doors for “a look at the weather.” “’Tis an awfu’ nicht,” he announced upon his return. “’Tis fortunate you lads made post as ye did. Ye’d ha’ perished in the cowld and snow of this nicht.” Paul and Dan spread their blankets on the floor, and very thankful they were for the shelter. Outside the wind howled dismally, and dashed the snow against the windows. Morning brought no abatement of the storm. If possible the snow fell more thickly and the wind blew more fiercely. The office building, ten yards from the door of the men’s house, could scarcely be made out, and the boys rejoiced anew at their safety. Breakfast was eaten by lamplight. Tammas insisted that the lads join in the meal, and when the bell clanged to call the men to work, he admonished: “If the master is hard, and says ye canna’ remain, coom to me at the smithy. I’ll ne’er be seein’ ye turned out in this awfu’ storm, an’ neither will Sam’l or Amos. If there’s no ither way, we’ll pay for your keep.” “Aye, that we will,” assented both Amos and Samuel. “Thank you,” said Paul. “If you do, my father will pay you back.” “The master’s apt to be ’ard, but stand up to ’im. ’E likes men with grit to stand up and face ’im,” advised Amos, as the three went out to their work. “Well, those are men with hearts, and true friends, and even if they are rough looking, they’re gentlemen,” remarked Paul, as the door closed. “’T ain’t clothes or money as makes a man,” said Dan. “Dad says ’tis th’ heart under th’ shirt.” They dreaded the meeting with David MacTavish, the factor, and for half an hour they hesitated to face the ordeal. “But they ain’t no use puttin’ un off,” suggested Dan, finally, after they had discussed at some length the probable outcome of the coming interview. “What we has t’ do, we has t’ do, an’ th’ sooner ’tis done th’ sooner ’tis over. An’ you knows wonderful well, Paul, how t’ talk t’ he.” “I’m not afraid of him,” declared Paul, working up his courage. “Let’s go now and see if he’s in the office.” Factor MacTavish was in his office, busy with accounts, when they entered, but for full ten minutes he ignored their presence. Finally looking up he said, in a much pleasanter tone than that of the previous evening: “Come here, boys.” They stepped up to his desk. “How did you pass the night?” he asked. “Very comfortably, thank you,” answered Paul.