At this point a stout man came to the door of the restaurant. It was the proprietor.
“How are you getting on with the wood?” he asked Tom.
“Pretty well.”
“Whenever you want your dinner you can stop short and come in.”
“Thank you. I took a late breakfast, and will finish the job first.”
“Who is the boy—your brother?”
“No; it’s a friend of mine.”
“Do you want a job?” asked the proprietor, turning to Grant.
“Yes, if it’s anything I can do.”
“One of my waiters has left me and gone to the mines. The rascal left without notice, and I am short-handed. Did you ever wait in a restaurant?”