"May I come in, father?" she said; "I wanted to see where you worked." Her voice was clear and sweet. All the men in the shop turned to look. The foreman who was paying Mr. Decker, and who had begun severely with the sentence: "Two half-days off again, Decker; that sort of thing won't"—stopped short at the sound of Nettie's voice, and gave him the two two dollar bills, and two ones, without further words. Six dollars! If only she could get part of it! How should the delicate matter be managed? Suddenly Nettie acted on the thought which came to her. What more natural than for a child to ask for money just then and there? She needed it, and why not say it? Perhaps he would not like to refuse her entirely before all the men. And poor Nettie had a very disagreeable fear that he would certainly refuse her if she waited until the men were gone; even if she found a chance to ask him before he reached the saloon just next door, where he spent so much of his money. Or at least where his wife thought he spent it.
"May I have some of that, father? I want some money. That was one of the things I came after."
This was certainly the truth. Why not treat it as a matter of course? "Why should I take it for granted that he is going to waste all his money?" said poor Nettie to herself. All the same she knew she had good reason for supposing that he would.
"Money!" he said, as he seized the bills. "What do you know about money, or want with it?"
"Oh, I want things. The little girls must have some shoes. I promised to see about it as soon as I could. And then I want to buy your Sunday dinner; a real nice one."
The tone was a winning, coaxing one. Nettie did not know how to coax; was not very well acquainted with her father; did not know how he would endure coaxing of any sort, but some way must be tried, and this was the best one she knew of.
"Divide with her, Decker," said the man who had first called his attention to Nettie. "She looks as though she could buy a dinner, and cook it too. If I had a trim little girl like that to look out for my comfort, hang me if I wouldn't take pleasure in keeping her well supplied." He sighed as he spoke, and nobody laughed; for most of them remembered that the man's home was desolate. Wife and daughter both buried only a few months before. This man sometimes spent his earnings on beer, but he was accustomed to say that there was nobody left to care; and that while he had them, he took care of them; which was true. Nettie looked up at the man with a curious pitiful interest. His tone was very sad. She was grateful to him for his words. Was there possibly something sometime that she could do for him? She would remember his face.
All the men were looking now, and there was Nettie's outstretched hand. Her face a good deal flushed; but it wore an expectant look. She was going to believe in her father as long as she could.
"Go ahead, Joe, divide with the girl. Such a handsome one as that. You ought to be proud of the chance."
"You have something worth taking care of, it seems, Decker." It was the foreman who said this, as he passed on his way to the other side of the room where the men were waiting.