“They tell me you can cook,” said the engineer.
“What’s that to you?” said Flagg.
“Do you want a job?”
“This is Mr. Van’ervelt,” put in Charlie, who had followed; “Mr. Van’ervelt, of the railroad.”
“What’ll you pay?” asked Flagg.
Young Van named the amount.
“When do you want to start?”
“Now.”
“Charlie,”—Flagg was sweeping in a heap of chips,—“go down to Jim’s and get my things and fetch ’em here.” And with this he turned back to the game.
Young Van looked uncertainly at Charlie, whose condition was hardly such that he could be trusted to make the trip without a series of stops in the numerous havens of refuge along the way. The thing to do was perhaps to go with him; at any rate, that is what Young Van did.