“Certainly. He persuaded Wheeler to move me from the forge.”
“Yet you are willing to take the job he ought to get!”
“Not at all,” said Kit. “I really don’t think my habit is to let down my friends.”
Mrs. Austin said nothing. Kit’s smile was apologetic, but his face was red. To doubt his sincerity was impossible. She had not really doubted: she had rather been forced to experiment.
“When Wheeler talked about my carrying on, I inquired if that implied that he would not want Bob,” Kit resumed. “Wheeler declared the company had plans for him and he would not grumble. Then he ordered me off. It looks as if you thought the fellow cheated.”
“Bob is keen to get ahead. If he finishes the bridge, he hopes it will help him go farther. But I stated something like this before, and you, of course, could use my argument——”
“I don’t want to use your argument, ma’am; your husband’s my pal. Since I expect you’d sooner not talk about the thing again, let’s try to understand each other. Please go on.”
“Very well. Bob has made some inquiries, and all they want at the office is a second-class draftsman. You know Bob was very ill in France, and I’d sooner he went to the office. The trouble is, he’s convinced he can stand the cold, and for my sake he hates to let go the chance he thinks he’s got.”
“It’s obvious,” said Kit. “Wheeler’s an unscrupulous brute; but I don’t know why he fixed on me.”
“Bob declares you have talent. Then is not your uncle a famous engineer?”