"He would take you as his secretary."
"Aha!" Joe's voice rang out gayly as he rose, refreshed by the coffee, toast, and warmth she had given him. "You've been story-reading, Ariel, like Eugene! 'Secretary'!"
"Please, Joe!"
"Where's my tin dinner-pail?" He found it himself upon the table where he had set it down. "I'm going to earn a dishonest living," he went on. "I have an engagement to take a freight at a water-tank that's a friend of mine, half a mile south of the yards. Thank God, I'm going to get away from Canaan!"
"Wait, Joe!" She caught at his sleeve. "I want you to—"
He had swung out of the room and was already at the front-door. She followed him closely.
"Good-bye, Ariel!"
"No, no! WAIT, Joe!"
He took her right hand in his own, and gave it a manly shake. "It's all right," he said.
He threw open the door and stepped out, but she sought to detain him. "Oh, have you GOT to go?" she cried.