But that was nothing to the way he hugged Jack and Ruth--separately--together--then Ruth, then Jack--and then both together again, only stopping at MacFarlane, whose hand he grabbed with a "Great day! hey?
Great day! By Cricky, Henry, these are the things that put new wine into old leather bottles like you and me." And this was not all that the spring and summer had brought.

Fresh sap had risen in Jack's veins.

This girl by his side was his own--something to work for--something to fight for.

MacFarlane felt the expansion and put him in full charge of the work, relieving him often in the night shifts, when the boy would catch a few hours' sleep, and when, you may be sure, he stopped long enough at the house to get his arms around Ruth before he turned in for the night or the morning, or whenever he did turn in.
As to the injury which McGowan's slipshod work had caused to the "fill," the question of damages and responsibility for the same still hung in the air.

The "fill" did not require rebuilding--nor did any part of the main work--a great relief.