Brandon of the Engineers

He bore it for some weeks and then, when his small stock of money was

melting fast, set off to try his fortune in the manufacturing towns of

Pennsylvania and Ohio. Here he found work was to be had, but the best

paid kind was barred to untrained men by Trade-union rules, and the rest

was done by Poles and Ruthenians, who led a squalid semi-communistic life

in surroundings that revolted him. Still, he could not be fastidious and

took such work as he could get, until one rainy evening when he walked

home dejectedly after several days of enforced idleness. A labor agent's

window caught his eye and he stopped amidst the crowd that jostled him on

the wet sidewalk to read the notices displayed.

One ticket stated that white men, and particularly live mechanics, were

wanted for a job down South, but Dick hesitated for a few minutes,

fingering a dollar in his pocket. Carefully spent, it would buy him his

supper and leave something towards his meals next day, and he had been

walking about since morning without food. If he went without his supper,

the agent, in exchange for the dollar, would give him the address of the

man who wanted help, but Dick knew from experience that it did not follow

that he would be engaged. Still, one must risk something and the

situation was getting desperate. He entered the office and a clerk handed

him a card.

"It's right across the town, but you'd better get there quick," he said.

"The job's a snap and I've sent a lot of men along."

Dick boarded a street-car that took him part of the way, but he had to

walk the rest, and was tired and wet when he reached an office in a side

street. A smart clerk took the card and gave him a critical glance.

"It looks as if we were going to be full up, but I'll put down your name

and you can come back in the morning," he remarked. "What do you call

yourself?"

"A civil engineer," said Dick. "But where is the job and what's the pay?"

"I guess Central America is near enough; mighty fine country, where rum's

good and cheap. Pay'll pan out about two-fifty, or perhaps three dollars

if you're extra smart."

"You can get as much here," Dick objected, thinking it unwise to seem

eager.

"Then why don't you get it?" the clerk inquired. "Anyhow, you won't be

charged for board and all you'll have to do is to drive breeds and

niggers. It's a soft thing, sure, but you can light out now and come back

if you feel it's good enough for you to take your chance."

Dick went away, and had reached the landing when a man who wore loose,

gray clothes and a big, soft hat, met him.