“Tramping it?”
“Yes, sir, some. Rode on the cars, too.”
The big man in the doorway winked down at him. “When they didn’t see you, eh? You look like a smart kid. What are you beating your way around the country for? Why don’t you get a job and go to work?”
“I’m looking for work,” answered Wayne eagerly. “Know where I can find some?”
The man shrugged his shoulders. “I guess you won’t have to look very far, son, if you really want a job. The trouble with your sort is that you don’t want to work. How far south do you come from?”
“Georgia, sir. How’d you know?”
“How’d I know!” laughed the man. “That’s a good one! What’s Friday’s name?”
“What, sir?” asked Wayne, puzzled.
The man nodded at Wayne’s companion. “What’s his name? Abraham Lincoln White?”
“June,” answered Wayne, a trifle stiffly, beginning to suspect that the man was laughing at him.