There was only one passenger in the stage, a woman whose face I could not see.
That evening O'mie went to Judson at closing time.
"Mr. Judson, I want a lave of absence fur a week or tin days," he said.
"What for?" Judson was the kind of man who could never be pleasant to his employees, for fear of losing his authority over them.
"I want to go out av town on business," O'mie replied.
"Whose business?" snapped Judson.
"Me own," responded O'mie calmly.
"I can't have it. That's it. I just can't have my clerks and underlings running around over the country taking my time."
"Then I'll lave your time here whin I go," O'mie spoke coolly. He had always been respectful toward his employer, but he had no servile fear of him.
"I just can't allow it," Judson went on. "I need you here." O'mie was the life of the business, the best asset in the store. "It may be a slack time, but I can't have it; that's it, I just can't put up with it. Besides," he simpered a little, in spite of himself, "besides, I'm likely to be off a few days myself, just any time, I can get ready for a step I have in mind, an important step, just any minute, but it's different with some others, and we have to regard some others, you know; have to let some others have their way once in a while. We'll consider it settled now. You are to stay right here."