"What grub?" sez he. "You surely don't think they serve meals here, do you?"

"Do you mean to tell me that I got to find myself, out of forty a month?" sez I.

He started to make up a joke, but I looked too famished to trifle with; so he explained to me that all we got was wages, an' we couldn't even sleep in the store. I was gettin' purty disgusted with business, but he told me that the man what owned the whole store had started in as a porter; so I went back an' portered harder than ever that afternoon, wonderin' what in thunder kind of a man it was who could save enough out of a porter's wages to buy a store like that. I was dressed some different from the rest o' the folks around there, so I attracted a lot of attention, an' the' wasn't much I did that wasn't enjoyed by more or less of a crowd. When quittin' time came I hustled up to the feller what had hired me an' told him I'd like to have my day's pay. "We don't pay until Sat.u.r.day night," sez he, hustlin' out o' the store. I stood on the sidewalk thinkin'; an' what I was thinkin' of, was the nonsense 'at Sandy Fergoson had been talkin'. It didn't sound so foolish now.

The' was a little restaurant across the street, an' the owner of it had noticed me washin' the windows--he had seemed to enjoy it too. I went over an' told him that I would like to board with him if he would make me rates. He sized me up an' sez he would board me for six dollars a week. I didn't see how I could save enough to buy a store out of four dollars a week, an' after I got tired o' seein' the sights I'd have to rent a bed somewheres too; but what I needed then was food, so I agreed.

I sat down an' begun to eat slow, 'cause it's always best to warm up careful on a long job. I et away peaceful an' contented until I got good an' used to it again, an' then I kept the waiters hoppin' purty lively. The proprietor took a deep interest in me, an' dodged around so he could have an un.o.bstructed view; while the rest of the guests got to noticin' too, an' when they'd finish they'd just stick around an' keep cases, until after a while things began to jam, an' every time I'd order in some new food they'd make bets on whether I'd be able to finish it or not. When I finally quit, the proprietor came up to me on a run an' sez, "Are you sure you have had all you wish?"

"Yes," I sez, "an' I ain't no fault to find with the cookin' either."

He eyed me all over, an' then he drew me to one side. "I don't want to go back on my word," sez he, "an' I don't intend to charge you a cent for this meal; but Great Scott, man, I wouldn't board you for six dollars a day, let alone six dollars a week."

I didn't intend to let him know that I was stone broke, 'cause it didn't seem the thing in a business man; but I did tell him that I hardly ever et quite so much as I had that night. Still, he wouldn't take any chances, so I took my blankets an' went on. I was purty sleepy after my meal, an' it was just all I could do to stagger up an' down the hills, before I found a place to flop in. It was under a little tree in a big yard, an' I got out at sun-up 'cause I didn't want any one to see a business man occupyin' such quarters as that. I didn't miss breakfast much that day, an' I went about my work singin' an'

whistlin'. Just before noon I found a hundred dollars on the floor close to the door.

I asked every one around if they had lost any money, an' most of 'em said no, an' them what bad lost any--an' the' was a purty high average that mornin'--had all lost the wrong amount, or else it was in a different kind of a sack; so I knocked off at noon, went to a new restaurant, an' et a fair meal, which they charged me one dollar for. I thought that was goin' a little stout for a porter, but I knew I'd find a place where I could live on my income as soon as I got better acquainted, an' I was purty light-hearted when I got back that noon.

"You're nineteen minutes late," sez the floor boss.

"Is that so; what's happened?" sez I, pleasantly.

"You are not supposed to take more than an hour for lunch," sez he.

"Well, you can just take the nineteen minutes out of the time I saved up yesterday," sez I.

"You must understand right at the start that business depends on method," sez he, sour like. "Mr. Hailsworth wishes to see you at once."

Hailsworth was the capital letter o' that outfit, an' I was glad o' the chance to see him, 'cause the' was some several changes I wanted to make in the porterin' department. I follered the floor boss upstairs an' back to a private room, where a little wizen-faced old man sat up an' looked at me over his spectacles. "I understand you found some money?" sez he.

"I did," sez I. "Do you know who lost it?"

"Well, no, not yet," sez he; "but of course you understand that any money that is found in this building belongs to the firm, unless its rightful owner claims it."

"Well that's a new wrinkle" sez I. "Why don't it belong to me?"

"'Cause you have hired your time to me, an' whatever you find here you find in my time, so it's mine. This is the law, an' I am very busy.

Just hand it over at once."

"That ain't right," sez I, "an' I don't intend to hand over a nickle of it."

"Then we'll have to arrest you," sez he. I put my hand down to my leg, but both my guns was rolled up in my blankets. "I'm goin' out to see a lawyer," sez I, thinkin' that would be more business-like than to tell him I 'd blow the top of his head off. The' was lots more things I wanted to tell him, but it took most o' my strength to manage my self-control; an' I allus like to have good footin' when I make my spring. I didn't feel at home, either, an' that's a heap. It kind o'

got on my nerves to see that little shrimp squattin' there behind his spectacles an' tellin' me what I had to do, the same as if I was a hoss. I turned on my heel and strode out o' that store head up an' I was some glad that Hammy had taught me what strodin' was, 'cause the rest o' the gang opened up a path you could 'a' drove a street-sprinkler through.

I didn't like the looks o' that lawyer, he reminded me of a rat. I don't care much for the law anyhow. All the law is fit for is to take care o' the weak an' the ignorant--an' they can't afford it. I've noticed that much, the little time I've been penned up in cities. This lawyer o' mine had full command o' the kind o' talk that bottles up a man an' keeps him from expressin' himself. He said I had a good case an' that he would save me my findin's, but that I had to give him half of it for his services--in advance. If you don't tell a lawyer the truth he can't fight your case; an' if you do you put yourself in his power. Course I don't claim to be authority, but I just actually don't like the law.

When I came away from the law office, a nice friendly feller got into conversation with me, an' after I'd bought him a couple o' drinks, he grew confidential an' told me his troubles. He was owner of a whole block of buildin's an' a lot o' residence houses, but he was stone broke. He had had a quarrel with the banks, an' couldn't raise a penny, an' he had lost ten thousand dollars the night before, gamblin'. He said it would take forty dollars for him to go to Los Angeles, where he had friends who would lend him any amount. Otherwise they would foreclose the little mortgage he had on the business block.

He talked along until I couldn't stand it any longer, so I give him the forty on the condition that I was to be his collecting agent at wages of two hundred a month, as soon as he got back from Los Angeles.

I went down to the station with him and then I hunted up a place where I took board and lodging for a week at six dollars in advance. This left me purt' nigh two dollars to go on until the real estate owner got back. I called around at my lawyer's every day, an' he told me just to lay low an' he'd keep me out o' trouble. Then the sixth day pa.s.sed without the real estate owner I told the lawyer about it an' asked him if he thought anything might have happened. He got awful mad an' said he'd ought to be kicked for not chargin' me ninety-five dollars for his services in the first place; an' by Jinks that was the truth: that rascally real-estate owner wasn't nothing but a flim-flammer.

At first I couldn't believe that the block he had showed me over didn't belong to him; but when I did I was ready to wreak vengeance. The lawyer said that wreakin' vengeance wasn't a thing that paid in city life, but that if I ever met up with that flim-flammer I could scare a lot of money out of him. My lawyer was a purty good sort of a feller, after all, an' he gave me a lot of high-cla.s.s advice. He told me that it might be years before my case came up, an' that the' wasn't any use of me waitin' around for it. Then he talked about business, an' he an'

Sandy Fergoson had about the same ideas of it, though they used different words. He told me that it was all right for a boy to start in in some old business an' learn the trade, but that the thing for a man to do was to get a start in a smaller town, an' then after he'd learned the ropes to come to the big town an' cut things wide open.

The more I thought over this the better it looked to me; but I hardly knew where to start in. Then the thought struck me that about the best business move I could make was to go to Los Angeles an' scare enough money out of the flim-flammer to give me a good start in some little business of my own. My board bein' out an' my cash bein' likewise, I had to travel on foot; but as my back was pointed toward Frisco, I didn't mind that much.

I trudged along for several days, an' the' was enough people along the line to welcome me to my meals, so I begun to get more resigned to bein' a human again. The farther I got from Frisco the nearer I got to Los Angeles, an' though I was some anxious to meet up with the flim-flammer, I finally began to doubt if he was worth the bother, an'

besides, he might not be there anyway.

I was beginnin' to get good an' sick of business; an' I was more than convinced that gettin' a feller's own consent to engage in it wasn't the hardest step he'd ever have to take. Wayside friends was beginnin'

to get mighty scarce, an' I was feelin' lonesome above the average one mornin', when I came to a pause in front of one o' these little six-acre ranches where they raise lawn gra.s.s an' fresh air. It was a purty, restful sort of a place, with a double row of trees leadin' up to the house, an' somethin' seemed to be drawin' me in at the front gate, although I couldn't smell any food cookin', either. I only waited about a minute, an' then I followed the draw.

I'm a firm believer in Fate. Fate is a funny word: leave the first letter off, an' it 's the cause; leave the last letter off, an' it's the result. Barbie found this out one night when we was discussin'

Fate. But I mean the sober side o' Fate, when I say I believe in it. A train starts out o' New York city just the same time that a fool cow puncher ropes a pony so he can ride to town for a big time. The puncher reaches the washed-out railroad bridge five minutes before the train--what do you call that?

I was thinkin' o' these things while I was walkin' up the drive-way; an' when I raised up my hand to knock, I felt just as if I'd been sent for.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

THE CHINESE QUESTION

It happened just like I thought it would. I hadn't more than struck the fourth or fifth tap before the door was opened by the finest little woman you ever saw. She had a worried lock on her face, but when she saw me the clouds rolled away an' she smiled clear into my heart. She was a real lady--it stuck out all over her, like a keep-off-the-gra.s.s sign.

"Are you the man?" sez she.

"Well, I'm one of 'em," sez I.

"You know I sent clear to San Francisco for a man," sez she, "an' I suppose you're the man."

"To tell you the honest truth," sez I, "I was so preoccupied in Frisco that I clean forgot to stop around for my mail, but as long as we're conversin' on this subject, I'll just be bold enough to say 'at I'll take the job, without askin' what it is."

"Have you had a wide experience?" sez she.

"Wide?" sez I. "Wide, only just begins to give you a hint at it. I ain't filled with the l.u.s.t of vanity, nor I ain't overly much given to tootin' my own horn; but in my humble an' modest way I guarantee to be able to do anything on this good, green earth 'at don't require a book edication."

"Can I trust you?" sez she, lookin' into my face mighty searchin'.

"If you sell me anything," sez I, smilin' as near like a baby as I could, "you'll have to trust me, 'cause I'm dead broke." She just stood an' looked in through my face; an' I tell ya, boys, I was mighty glad that in all this rip-snortin' world the' wasn't one single woman who could rise up an' say that I hadn't played fair. She kept on lookin'

into me, until I knew she was readin' everything I had ever done or said or thought, an' the sweat was tricklin' down my back like meltin'

snow.

"Yes," she sez finally, "I can trust you."

"Don't you never doubt it," sez I. "All you need to do is to issue the orders, an' if I don't carry 'em out, why, just tell the folks not to send flowers. I ain't long on talk, but I'll agree to carry out any plan you've got, from ditchin' a limited to shootin' up a Methodist Church. That's me," sez I, "an' now let's have the news."