“How much am I worth here, sir, if you please?” he demanded, unceremoniously. The chairman looked somewhat startled and disconcerted.
“Why—er—that is a difficult question to answer, Mr. Ware. But if you—ah—consider that you are not being paid enough, I shall be glad to consider the matter of increased remuneration if you will make out an application in writing, stating——”
“Well, is my work here worth a dollar an hour, sir?”
“Eh? A dollar an hour? I—er— But I think you are receiving that amount, are you not?”
“Yes, sir; and that’s what the trouble is.”
“Trouble? Suppose you explain what you mean.”
“Well, I—” He hesitated for words an instant and then threw politeness to the winds. “You’ve made me do what isn’t honest, you and Stearns,” he charged, angrily. “You offered me the work here just to keep me in college, so I could run at your old meet, and you gave me a dollar an hour for work that any one would do for half that money. Oh, I know it’s lots my fault,” he went on, silencing the professor’s remonstrances. “I ought to have guessed it, but I didn’t. I didn’t think a thing about it until to-day I overheard a fellow say in plain words that I was taking money I wasn’t earning. That’s a nice thing to have fellows say about you, isn’t it? And I dare say the whole college thinks just as he does, and—and——”
“Hold up a minute,” said the professor, finally making himself heard. “You’re accusing Mr. Stearns and me of pretty hard things. Let’s talk this over quietly. Sit down, please.”
Allan obeyed. The professor swung around in his chair until he faced him, clasped his hands over his vest, and gravely studied Allan’s angry countenance.
“I’m not sure that you—ah—have any right to come here and charge me—or Mr. Stearns—with unfair dealings. But I will accord you the right, Mr. Ware, for I see that there has been a mistake made. It was, however, a mistake and nothing more, I assure you. Neither Mr. Stearns nor I had any intention of deceiving you. Allow me to finish, please,” he added, as Allan made an impatient movement.