He had sat down, no longer angry, but a prey to despair. His natural weakness was beginning to reassert itself.
“But you can’t live widout working?” said Susan. “You mean to say that y’u don’t know anybody who will hire you? Don’t you have education?”
“Yes, Mister Tom,” her father remarked encouragingly, dipping into the conversation; “a ejucated gen’leman like you is not common. Trust to God!”
But Tom was not to be comforted. “I been with Mr. Jacobs six years,” he said, “an’ everybody is goin’ to say that it is funny him discharge me all of a sudden.”
“Then what you goin’ to do?” Susan asked again.
“I’m going to Colon.”
“Colon?” repeated Susan, with mingled hope and fear in her heart.
“Yes; Colon.”
“Well, Colon is a very good place,” said the old man reflectively. He was entertaining hopes of being taken to Colon himself. “I thinks Miss Susan will like it.”
“I can’t take her. I don’t have sufficient money.”