“Yes, sur, jest that. I don’t take back a bit of it. They don’t like to see an amatoor do better’n they kin.”
“But Lawrence is with us now, and I shall not get much show in the future. You know they had to run me into his parts when he was ill.”
“I bet yeou git a chance, jest the same. Roscoe Havener ain’t goin’ to keep a stiff on a part when he’s got a good man right handy that he kin run in.”
“Well, if what you are afraid of happens, it’s little good my opportunities will do me. I feel a strange curiosity to know the contents of that message.”
Barnaby Haley had crumpled the yellow sheet in one thick hand, and the look on his phlegmatic face showed he was unusually aroused.
“Answer, sir?” asked the messenger.
“No!” snarled the manager.
The boy dodged.
“Needn’t bite my head off!” he exclaimed.
Then he skipped away.