"Yes," Hillary chimed in, "there's such a thing as being too greedy to eat."
"What else are we here for except to make money?" Slocum demanded more bitterly than usual.
He raised his long arm in explanation and swept it to and fro over the straggling prairie city, with its rough, patched look. I didn't see what there was in the city to object to: it was just a place like any other—to work, eat, and sleep in. Later, however, when I saw the little towns back East, the pleasant hills, the old homes in the valleys, and the red-brick house on the elm-shaded street in Portland, then I knew what Slocum meant.
Whatever was there in Chicago in 1877 to live for but Success?
CHAPTER V
A MAN'S BUSINESS
Signs of trouble at the Enterprise—A possible partnership—He travels fastest who travels alone—John Carmichael—Feeding the peoples of the earth—I drive for Dround
"Do you see that big, fat fellow talking with Mr. Joyce?" the cashier whispered to me one morning as I passed her cage. "He's Dround's manager—his name is Carmichael. When he shows up, there is trouble coming to some one."
Dround & Co. was the name of the packing firm that the Enterprise dealt with. I tied up my bundles and made up my cash account, thinking a good deal about the appearance of the burly manager of the packing-house. Pretty soon Mr. Carmichael came out into the front store very red in the face, followed by the elder Joyce, who had been drinking, and they had some words. The cashier winked at me.