"Why, that's all right," he said. "You could have the job; but what about your grandfather Walker? He doesn't seem to want you to leave."
"I know. But my mother's willing. And I'll make it up to Grandpa Walker some way. I can't stay here, Mr. Starbird; and—I'm not going to. They're good enough to me here. I've no complaint to make. But—I want a real job and a fair chance."
He paused, out of breath. The intensity of his desire, and the fixedness of his purpose were so sharply manifest that the man in the wagon did not, for the moment, reply. He placed his whip slowly in its socket, and seemed lost in thought. At last he said:
"Henry Cobb has been telling me about you. He gives you a very good name."
He paused a moment and then added:
"I'll tell you what I'll do. If you'll give the old gentleman fair notice—and not sneak away from him like a vagabond—I won't harbor any runaways—why, I'll see that you get the job."
Pen drew a long breath, and his face lighted up with pleasure.
"Thank you, Mr. Starbird!" he exclaimed. "Thank you very much. When may I come?"
"Well, let's see. To-day's Wednesday. Suppose you report for duty next Monday."
"All right! I'll be there. I'll leave here Monday morning. I'll speak to Grandpa Walker to-night."