"What's your name?"
"Guilford Duncan."
"Want work?"
"Yes."
"What sort?"
"Any sort—for good wages." That last phrase was the result of his stoker experience.
"Well, do you want to watch this cotton to-night and see that no harm comes to it, either from fire, or—what's worse—the cotton thieves that go down the alleys, pulling out all the lint they can from the torn bales?"
"Yes, if I can have fair wages."
"Will three dollars for the night be fair wages?"
"Yes—ample. How far does your freight extend up and down the levee?"