“But it must make it bad for the towns where the factories are now,” said Mary after a thoughtful pause.  “I know how it would hurt New Bethel if we closed up.”

Josiah nodded his head.  “I didn’t like it myself at first.”

“It was Uncle Stanley’s idea, then?”

“Yes; he’s engineering it.”

Again Mary felt her heart grow heavy.

“It must be costing an awful lot of money,” she said.

“It is,” said Josiah, leaning over and making a gesture.  “Of course we’ll get it back, and more, too—­but for quite a few years now it’s been taking a lot of money—­a dreadful lot of money.  Still, I think the end’s in sight—­”

He was sitting at his desk with a shaded lamp in front of him, and as he leaned over and gestured with his hands, Mary’s eyes caught the shadow on the wall.  She seemed to see a spider—­a spider that was spinning and weaving his web—­and for the third time that night her heart grew heavy within her.

CHAPTER VIII

The next day was Saturday and Mary drove her father down to the factory.  A small army of men was at work at the new improvements, and when they reached the brow of the hill which overlooked the scene below, Josiah felt that thrill of pride which always ran over him when beholding this monument to his family’s genius.

“The greatest of its kind in the world,” he said.

With her free hand, Mary patted his arm.

“That’s us!” she said, as proud as he.  “I’ll leave you at the office door, and then I’m going to drive around and see how the building’s going on—­”

There was plenty for Mary to see.

A gang of structural workers was putting up the steel frame-work for one of the new buildings.  Nearby the brick-layers were busy with mortar and trowels.  Carpenters were swarming over a roof, their hammers beating staccato.

As they worked in the sunshine, they joked and laughed and chatted with each other, and Mary couldn’t help reverting to some of her old thoughts.

“How nice to be a man!” she half sighed to herself.  “Back home, their wives are working in the kitchens—­the same thing every day and nothing to show for it.  But the men come out and do all sorts of interesting things, and when they are through they can say ’I helped build that factory’ or ‘I helped build that ship’ or whatever it is that they have been doing.  It doesn’t seem fair, somehow, but I suppose it’s the way it always has been, and always will be—­”

Near her a trench was being dug for water pipes.  At one place the men had uncovered a large rock, and she was still wondering how they were going to get it out of the way, when a young man came briskly forward and gave one glance at the problem.

“We’ll rig up a derrick for this little beauty,” he said.  “Come on, boys; let’s get some timbers.”

They were back again in no time, and before Mary knew what they were doing, they had raised a wooden tripod over the rock.  The apex of this was bound together with a chain from which a pulley was hung.  Other chains were slung under the rock.  Then from a nearby hoisting engine, a cable was passed through the pulley and fastened to the chains below.