“No, they’re just giving the jobs out piecemeal,” the young man said amid the general laughter. “Anybody that wants to tear a building down can get permission. They give so much a building. I undertook three. If I could get some help and do it in a month or so I’d have a little money. I haven’t got anybody so far. I suppose that’s because it’s out of the way.”
“Oh, then you don’t work for the wrecking concern?” Mr. Bennett queried.
“Only that way,” the stranger said.
“You belong hereabouts?”
“N–no.”
“Anybody else working up there?”
“Not now.”
“I suppose these youngsters could get a commission to haul down several buildings themselves if they wanted to?” Mr. Bennett inquired. “Cut out the middle man, huh?”
The young fellow seemed a trifle worried. “I–I didn’t think of that,” he said; “I guess they could. But I don’t want much out of it myself,” he added, in a voice that had almost a note of pleading in it; “and I picked out the easiest shacks. They’d–I’d be willing–they’d get most of the money. Beggars can’t be choosers. I’m out of work–I–”
“And it’s best for youngsters to have a boss, eh?” Mr. Bennett added, genially. “Well, I guess you’re right. Somebody to keep them out of mischief.”