“A civil engineer,” said Dick. “But where is the job and what’s the pay?”
“I guess Central America is near enough; mighty fine country, where rum’s good and cheap. Pay’ll pan out about two-fifty, or perhaps three dollars if you’re extra smart.”
“You can get as much here,” Dick objected, thinking it unwise to seem eager.
“Then why don’t you get it?” the clerk inquired. “Anyhow, you won’t be charged for board and all you’ll have to do is to drive breeds and niggers. It’s a soft thing, sure, but you can light out now and come back if you feel it’s good enough for you to take your chance.”
Dick went away, and had reached the landing when a man who wore loose, gray clothes and a big, soft hat, met him.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“I’ve been applying for the job in the South.”
The other gave him a searching glance and Dick thought he noted his anxious look and wet and shabby clothes.
“What can you do?” he resumed.
“To begin with, I can measure cubic quantities, plan out excavating work, and use the level. If this kind of thing’s not wanted, I can handle a spade.”