CHAPTER IV.
CAMP FORTY-SEVEN.
This abrupt announcement changed Nash’s view of the situation. He remembered the letter he carried in his pocket, and to whom it was addressed.
“You are Wilson Hooker?” he asked.
The foreman nodded. “That’s me.”
“I came from Los Angeles this morning especially to find you,” Nash explained. “I want a job.”
“What can you do?”
“I’m willing to do anything from digging trenches to——”
The foreman shrugged. “I don’t need any one at present. I’ve ten men to every place.”
“As for references,” Nash said, ignoring the other’s declaration, “I have previously worked on——”
“I said I didn’t need any more help—and I mean it,” broke in the foreman.