“He should be. Well, go on up, I guess, but it’s against regulations.”
Penny climbed the remaining rungs of the ladder and stepped out on the deck of the barge. She was chagrined to see that she had wiped up a great deal of coal dust.
“Oh, Mr. Oaks!” she called. “Are you here?”
From the tiny deck house the old man emerged. No smile brightened his smudged face as he recognized Penny.
“This is a swell job your father got me!” he greeted her.
“Why, Mr. Oaks, you don’t act as if you like it,” Penny replied, walking toward him. “What seems to be wrong?”
“The pay’s poor,” he said crossly. “I’m expected to stay on this rotten old tub twenty-four hours a day with only time off for my meals. It’s so dirty around here that if a fellow’d take a deep breath he’d get a hunk o’ coal stuck in his nose!”
“It is rather unpleasant,” Penny admitted. “But then, the wind can’t always blow in this direction.”
“I want you to ask your father to find me another job,” the watchman went on. “I’d like one on a bridge again.”
“Well, I don’t know. After what happened—”