"What do you want?" he asked.
"I've been applying for the job in the South."
The other gave him a searching glance and Dick thought he noted his
anxious look and wet and shabby clothes.
"What can you do?" he resumed.
"To begin with, I can measure cubic quantities, plan out excavating work,
and use the level. If this kind of thing's not wanted, I can handle a
spade."
"Where have you done your digging?"
"In this city. Laying sewers for a contractor, who, the boys said, had to
squeeze us to make good the graft he put up to get the job."
The other nodded. "That's so; I know the man. You can use a spade all
right if you satisfied him. But the sewer's not finished yet; why did you
quit?"
"The foreman fired three or four of us to make room for friends that a
saloon-keeper who commands some votes sent along."
"Well," said the other, smiling, "you seem to understand how our city
bosses fix these things. But my job will mean pretty tough work. Are you
sure you want it?"
"I can't find another," Dick answered frankly.
"Very well, I'll put you on. Look round to-morrow and get your orders.
I've a notion that you're up against it; here's a dollar on account."
Dick took the money. He rather liked the man, whose abruptness was
disarmed by his twinkling smile. For the first time, with one exception,
during his search for employment, he had been treated as a human being
instead of an instrument for doing a certain amount of work.
It was raining hard when he reached the street, and supper would be over
before he arrived at his cheap hotel, where one must eat at fixed times
or wait for the next meal. There was, however, a small restaurant with an
Italian name outside a few blocks further on, and going in he was served
with well-cooked food and afterwards sat in a corner smoking and thinking
hard. He now felt more cheerful; but the future was dark and he realized
the difficulties in his path.
American industry was highly organized. The man who hoped for advancement
must specialize and make himself master of some particular branch. Dick
had specialized in England, and thought he knew his subject, but could
not use his knowledge. The Americans to whom he tried to sell it would
have none of him, and Dick owned that he could not blame them; since it
was natural to suppose that the man who was unfaithful to his country
would not be loyal to his employer. When he looked for other openings, he
found capital and labor arrayed in hostile camps. There was mechanical
work he was able to do, but this was not allowed, because the organized
workers, who had fought stubbornly for a certain standard of comfort,
refused to let untrained outsiders share the benefits they had won.