Part 33 (1/2)

”Well, that is unfortunate, for I think Mr. Kline will fill his openings right away, and we have to take union men in our work, to keep out of all sorts of labor complications.”

Mr. Reed seemed interested. He laid aside his work, and he and John talked for nearly an hour, and when it finally came out that John had a.s.sisted in some contracting work in the South and had an ambition to go farther in the same line, Mr. Reed lowered his brows thoughtfully. In an adjoining office Mr. Pilcher was at work dictating letters to a stenographer and Reed suddenly excused himself and went in to him. John noticed that he shut the door of the tiny office. He was gone ten minutes or more and then he came back.

”The truth is, Mr. Trott,” he said, a touch of business-like reserve showing itself in his manner for the first time, ”we are really in need of office help. I mean the kind of a man that could do both inside and outside work. Mr. Richer is getting old and is not able to do much. He says he would like to talk to you. Would you mind going in?”

Pilcher was a brusk, dyspeptic individual who seemed to be overworked, but John liked him and was convinced of his fairness and honesty. They had only chatted a few minutes when the old man called out to his partner and asked him to come in.

Reed made his appearance at once. ”We might give Mr. Trott a trial in the office,” he said. ”What do you think?”

”I haven't yet spoken to Mr. Trott of the salary,” Reed said. ”Have you mentioned it, Mr. Pilcher?”

”No, but I thought you had.”

”At the start it could not be more than twenty a week,” the junior member said, ”but there would be a chance, if you caught on readily to the work, for an increase later on.

”I had hoped to do better than that,” John answered, frankly. ”I want to make a start at contracting, but I am a good brick-mason, and I can, by working overtime, occasionally earn more at that, I think.”

”Yes, perhaps,” Pilcher admitted, and he threw a glance at his partner which seemed to sanction John's level-headed view. ”We might raise it to twenty-two, and give Mr. Trott time to think it over till--say, to-morrow morning. How would that suit you, Mr. Trott?”

”Very well, thank you,” said John, and he rose to go.

Reed followed him into the other office. The fact that John had not at once accepted the position had impressed him favorably. ”I really think we could get along well together,” he said. ”From what you have told me about your past work I think you would fall into our line easily enough.

Well, think it over, and let us know in the morning.”

John spent the remainder of the day answering in person various advertis.e.m.e.nts. At some places he was kept waiting in a long line of applicants for hours, only to find that the work to be done was out of town, and that members.h.i.+p in the union was absolutely obligatory.

When the houses of business were beginning to close for the day he took the Elevated train for home. Mrs. McGwire met him at the front door. She was smiling agreeably.

”Your sister is not at home just now,” she announced. ”Minnie and Betty were going to an ice-cream festival at our church, around in the next block, and they took her with them. I hope you don't mind.”

”Not at all,” he returned. ”I'm glad she got to go, and it was kind of them to take her.”

He was at dinner when the children returned and they all came to the table where he sat alone. Dora's face was slightly flushed and she looked very attractive in the blue-serge suit. His heart throbbed with a vague, new pride in her. It was strange, but she had already acquired a sort of self-possession that rested well on such young shoulders. He noticed that she conducted herself almost as well as her two companions.

She unfolded her napkin and put it into her lap, and handled her knife and fork as they did.

”Oh, it was glorious, brother John!” she exclaimed. ”I wish you had been there. Girls and boys acted and sang on a little stage. Harold helped Mr. King run it all. The ice-cream and cake was the best I ever tasted.

Harold made a speech, and it was very funny. Everybody laughed and clapped their hands.”

”Harold only introduced some of the performers in a funny sort of way,”

Betty said, with quiet dignity. ”He wrote it down beforehand.”

When dinner was over they all went to the parlor above. Betty sat at the piano, opened a book of ”Gospel Songs,” and she and Minnie and some of the boarders began to sing. Harold came in with his mother and they stood side by side, listening. John sat at a window and he noticed that Dora, who was near the piano, had a look half of envy, half of chagrin in her eyes.

”Poor kid!” John mused, reading her aright, ”she is sorry she can't sing. Young as she is, she has backbone and doesn't want others to be ahead of her.”

That night before going to bed he looked in on her in her room. She sat in a big rocking-chair with a book in her lap. He went in and looked at it. It was an English primer. She glanced up at him. There was something like the moisture of diffused tears in her eyes and he heard her sigh.

”What is the matter?” he asked, gently.

She sighed again. ”I can't make head nor tail of this darned thing,” she said, her lips twitching. ”Oh, I'm mad, brother John! Betty and Minnie can both read and write, and Betty keeps telling me (not in a mean way, though) not to say this and not to say that. Why, I'm a fool-- I'm really a blockhead!”

John was deeply touched. He drew up a chair close beside hers and rested his hand on her head. ”Listen, kid,” he began. ”It will come out all right. You are going to start to school Monday and you will learn fast.