“Hi, look out, or you’ll choke to death!” cried Bill Carrow, slapping him on the back. Then Andy ran to the door and continued to cough, until the awkward question was forgotten. Other workmen came up, and the talk became general. Perhaps Carrow suspected that the boy did not wish to answer him, for he did not refer to the matter again.
After thanking his friend for the dinner, Andy walked back to the office. He found the clerk smoking a pipe and reading a Bangor newspaper, having finished his midday meal a few minutes previously.
“It’s no use,” he said, as Andy came in. “We can’t possibly take you on.”
“I came back to get a little information, if you’ll be kind enough to give it. Do you know a man named Hopton?”
“Why, yes. I suppose you mean A. Q. Hopton, the real estate dealer.”
“Does he deal in timber lands?”
“I think he does.”
“Where is he from?”
“He has an office in Portland, and another in Grand Rapids, Michigan.”
“Do you know where he is now?”