Bonbright went doggedly to his place at the mouth of the chute and was ready with the whistle, an axle poised to slide downward to the assembling car below. He was afraid—afraid he would not be able to get through the day—absurdly afraid and ashamed of his physical weakness. If he should play out!…
A boy tapped him on the shoulder. "You're wanted in the office," he heard.
"I've got to—keep up," he said, dully. "Cars are coming along below," he explained, carefully, "and I've got to get the axles to them."
"Here's a man to take your place," said the boy—and so strange is man created in God's image!—he did not want to go. He wanted to see it through till he dropped.
"If you keep the boss waiting—" said the boy, ominously.
Bonbright walked painfully to Lightener's office.
"Well?" said Lightener.
"I can do it—I'll harden to it," Bonbright said.
"Huh!… Take off those overalls…. Boy, go to Mr. Foote's locker and fetch his things…."
"Am—am I discharged?"