“It will do no good.”
Braunt paused in his walk and looked closely at his companion. “What’s the matter wi’ thee, lad? Ye seem cast down, an’ here Ah’m talkin’ away about maself, an’ payin’ no heed to aught else. What’s wrong wi’ ye?”
“Well, as you will have to know sooner or later, and there’s no use making a secret of it, Sartwell has discharged me.”
“No!” cried Braunt, incredulously, stopping short and turning to his friend.
“Yes, he has.”
“In God’s name, what for?”
“No reason was given. The cashier gave me a month’s wages and told me to go. I gave back three-fourths of it, for I’m entitled to but a week’s notice. I’ll have no favour from Sartwell.”
“Ah, lad, there ye were foolish. Never give back money when you’ve got your fingers on it. Ye hurt yourself an’ not the others. Still, Ah’d very likely a’ done the same thing; but then, Ah’m a fool, an’ not to be taken pattern by. Have ye asked Sartwell the reason?”
“I have not seen him, nor will I.”
“Wrong again, lad. Let’s go back now, an’ have it out wi’ him before he goes whoam.”