"Suppose I were to offer you a job over at the factory?"
"Would you?" said Bojo, looking up with a leaping heart.
"That means starting in on rock bottom—as I did. Up at six, there at seven—beginning as a day laborer on a beautifully oily and smudgy blanking machine among a bunch of Polacks."
"Will you give me a chance?" said Bojo breathlessly.
"Will you stick it out?"
"You bet I will!"
"Done!"
And they shook hands with a resounding smack that seemed to explode all Bojo's pent-up feelings.
"All right, young fellow," said Granning with a grin. "To-morrow we'll find out what sort of stuff you're made of!"