“It’s up to you, Tommy,” said the executive. “If you want to go up there and help these people, we’ll manage to plug along. I know you’re about due for a little change. Maybe it would do you good to get away from the kids for a month or so.”
“You—you didn’t mean for me to go along with you right now, did you?” Tom asked.
“Why—no, and yes,” said Ferris. “Most fellows who promise to come don’t show up. I’ve become sort of superstitious about it. I usually grab them if I can. Of course, you’re not one of the riffraff, but, well, I’d like it a little better if you came along. A bird in the hand, you know. Does it appeal to you?” he added.
“Well, I guess yes,” said Tom.
“My sister outside there has a sort of a joke about them never showing up. She says the kind that are in need of jobs like that are usually the kind you can’t depend on. If I told her you were coming along up next Monday she’d just laugh.”
“Oh, is that so?” said Tom. “Well just for that, I’ll go if you’ll wait ten minutes till I throw some things in a duffel bag. If I wait till Monday the wildcat may die.”
“You’ll start by having the laugh on her,” laughed Mr. Carleson.
So it happened that twice, even before they were introduced, Tom had the laugh on this young damsel of the mountain. First when she relaxed her dignified composure long enough to steal a glimpse of him. And second when he came out ready to start. He enjoyed her slight chagrin in this second matter. As for the stolen glance, poor Tom was too simple in a way, to think twice about that.
CHAPTER XIV
THE JOB ON THE MOUNTAIN