“Good idea, Jim! At least it’ll help and it’ll keep those dagos busy. If we’ve got to keep them, we might as well make them work. I’ll see what I can do.”
He turned away and hurried through the crowd. But Tom was after him.
“Excuse me, sir,” he said, touching the contractor’s arm. “But I heard you say something about a pump.”
“Eh? Yes, what of it? Know where I can get one—buy, borrow, or steal?”
“I—that is, Cummings and Wright have one for sale. It’s only been used twice and it’s in perfect condition, sir.”
“Thanks. I’ll have a look at it. Wish I’d known about it two days ago. What make is it?”
Tom told him and he nodded. But Tom couldn’t answer the other questions the contractor put as they hurried up the street. In the store Tom left the contractor and hurried to the office after Mr. Cummings, who, fortunately, was in. A few words explained the situation and in a minute Mr. Cummings and the contractor were on their way downstairs. In an almost incredibly short space of time they emerged again, the contractor hurried away and Mr. Cummings, smiling broadly, sought Tom.
“You’re in luck, Tom,” he announced. “He jumped at it. They’re going to haul it away in ten minutes.”
“He bought it?” asked Tom eagerly.
“No, I made him a present of it,” laughed Mr. Cummings. “For sixty dollars.”