“I shall want some empty cars of you people this fall,” he explained. “I'm a hop-raiser now, and I just want to make sure what your rates on hops are. I've been told, but I want to make sure. Savvy?” There was a long delay while the clerk consulted the tariff schedules, and Annixter fretted impatiently. Dyke, growing uneasy, leaned heavily on his elbows, watching the clerk anxiously. If the tariff was exorbitant, he saw his plans brought to naught, his money jeopardised, the little tad, Sidney, deprived of her education. He began to blame himself that he had not long before determined definitely what the railroad would charge for moving his hops. He told himself he was not much of a business man; that he managed carelessly.
“Two cents,” suddenly announced the clerk with a certain surly indifference.
“Two cents a pound?”
“Yes, two cents a pound—that's in car-load lots, of course. I won't give you that rate on smaller consignments.”
“Yes, car-load lots, of course... two cents. Well, all right.”
He turned away with a great sigh of relief.
“He sure did have me scared for a minute,” he said to Annixter, as the two went down to the street, “fiddling and fussing so long. Two cents is all right, though. Seems fair to me. That fiddling of his was all put on. I know 'em, these railroad heelers. He knew I was a discharged employee first off, and he played the game just to make me seem small because I had to ask favours of him. I don't suppose the General Office tips its slavees off to act like swine, but there's the feeling through the whole herd of them. 'Ye got to come to us. We let ye live only so long as we choose, and what are ye going to do about it? If ye don't like it, git out.'”
Annixter and the engineer descended to the street and had a drink at the Yosemite bar, and Annixter went into the General Store while Dyke bought a little pair of red slippers for Sidney. Before the salesman had wrapped them up, Dyke slipped a dime into the toe of each with a wink at Annixter.
“Let the little tad find 'em there,” he said behind his hand in a hoarse whisper. “That'll be one on Sid.”
“Where to now?” demanded Annixter as they regained the street. “I'm going down to the Post Office and then pull out for the ranch. Going my way?”