“Well, will you?” Thorpe inquired, the humor of the situation overcoming him.
“Have you ever worked in the woods?”
“No.”
The man smoked silently.
“I'll put you on the road in the morning,” he concluded, as though this were the deciding qualification.
One of the men entered abruptly and approached the counter. The writer at the desk laid aside his tablets.
“What is it, Albert?” he added.
“Jot of chewin',” was the reply.
The scaler took from the shelf a long plug of tobacco and cut off two inches.
“Ain't hitting the van much, are you, Albert?” he commented, putting the man's name and the amount in a little book. Thorpe went out, after leaving his name for the time book, enlightened as to the method of obtaining supplies. He promised himself some warm clothing from the van, when he should have worked out the necessary credit.