“I’ll not handle another brick!”
“Neither will I!” he replied, losing his grip and the handles of the barrow so that it fell to the frozen ground with a resounding thud. “I’m done!”
When we reported at the office of the brickyard owner, and Brock had given the computations of the work we had done, my heart throbbed warmly for the first time since early morning when we were each handed a dollar and ten cents in real cash!
“This is the first money I have handled for three months!” I could not help exclaiming in the office.
“Do you mean it?” asked the contractor, interestedly.
“I do, sir!”
“Then any time between now and the end of the month that you want to earn a dollar or two come to this office and I’ll have some more bricks for you to load.”
I looked with a smile towards Brock. Brock returned my gaze with a hearty laugh. Then he said, holding out his swollen hands, for the man to view,
“No, thanks!”
And I, I said,