“Possibly,” suggested the boss in a whisper to his aide, “the man has business with you. You did not ask him, and I am sure that he said nothing about wishing a meal or a place to sleep.”
“Huh?” grunted Grayson, and then to Bridge, “Well, what the devil DO you want?”
“A job,” replied Bridge, “or, to be more explicit, I need a job—far be it from me to WISH one.”
The Easterner smiled. Grayson looked a bit mystified—and irritated.
“Well, I hain't got none,” he snapped. “We don't need nobody now unless it might be a good puncher—one who can rope and ride.”
“I can ride,” replied Bridge, “as is evidenced by the fact that you now see me astride a horse.”
“I said RIDE,” said Grayson. “Any fool can SIT on a horse. NO, I hain't got nothin', an' I'm busy now. Hold on!” he exclaimed as though seized by a sudden inspiration. He looked sharply at Bridge for a moment and then shook his head sadly. “No, I'm afraid you couldn't do it—a guy's got to be eddicated for the job I got in mind.”
“Washing dishes?” suggested Bridge.
Grayson ignored the playfulness of the other's question.
“Keepin' books,” he explained. There was a finality in his tone which said: “As you, of course, cannot keep books the interview is now over. Get out!”