“Well,” growled the red-haired wiper, “ther foreman ain’t round. When he’s out, I take his place. What dyer want?”
“Never mind,” said the youth. “I was looking for a job, but----”
The wiper was astonished, as he plainly showed.
“Most any kind of a job,” was the quiet answer. “I will call when the foreman is in.”
“Well, dern my eyes!” shouted the red-headed man, bursting into a roar of coarse laughter. “Mebbe you wanted to hire out as general superintendent or president of the road, or something of that sort? Haw! haw! haw!”
“Haw! haw! haw!” roared the other wipers.
Some of the machinists stopped work and came where they could watch and listen; a crowd was collecting around the applicant for work, who began to show embarrassment, his cheeks flushing.
“Look at him, fellers!” cried the big wiper, pointing at the stranger. “He’s lookin’ fer work--here! Haw! haw! haw!”
“Well, sir,” said the youth, sharply, “will you tell me what there is so very funny about that?”
“Oh, it ain’t funny at all!” said the big man. “It’s just thunderin’ ridiculous! I s’pose you’d be satisfied with a salary of ten thousand dollars a year?”
“Oh, I might be willing to accept that,” dryly answered the youth.
“Nothing. I am not here to run the railroad, but to work for the men who do run it.”
“Well, you’ve got ter know somethin’ in order ter be fit fer somethin’.”
“I might be able to learn something in time.”
“No; I’m afraid not. You’d have ter begin at the wrong end. You’ve made a mistake. This ain’t no candy store. We don’t sell dry goods here, either. You’d look pretty measurin’ off ribbon for ladies, an’ that’s about all you’d be good for.”
The stranger smiled in a cool manner, letting his eyes run over the wiper from his feet to his head and then back again.
“It strikes me that you must be a misfit at anything,” he said, suavely. “About the only thing you can be real good for is to drink beer. It’s plain that you are a tank!”
“Yah!” snarled the man, ceasing to laugh in a moment and showing his temper. “You don’t want to make any funny remarks!”
“I don’t see anything funny about that. On the face of it, it is a truthful statement, and you are a living, breathing witness. If you can’t have your booze regularly, you do not consider life worth the living. You would make a first-class advertisement for a cheap grog shop.”