"Between six and seven years."
"Any tools with you?"
"No."
"Union man?"
"No."
"Hm-m."
The manager chewed the handle of his pen, and thought something out with himself; his eyes were on the pad before him.
"We've got to take on a lot of new men for the next two years—as many as we can of skilled workmen. The break will have to be made sometime. Anyhow, if you'll risk it they've got a job for you in Shed Number Two—cutting and squaring for a while—forty cents an hour—eight hour day. I'll telephone to the boss if you want it."
"I do."
He took up the desk-telephone and gave his message.