“Radway,” said he suddenly, “I need money and I need it bad. I think you ought to get something out of this job of the M. & D.—not much, but something. Will you give me a share of what I can collect from them?”
“Sure!” agreed the jobber readily, with a laugh. “Sure! But you won't get anything. I'll give you ten per cent quick.”
“Good enough!” cried Thorpe.
“But don't be too sure you'll earn day wages doing it,” warned the other. “I saw Daly when I was down here last week.”
“My time's not valuable,” replied Thorpe. “Now when we get to town I want your power of attorney and a few figures, after which I will not bother you again.”
The next day the young man called for the second time at the little red-painted office under the shadow of the mill, and for the second time stood before the bulky power of the junior member of the firm.
“Well, young man, what can I do for you?” asked the latter.
“I have been informed,” said Thorpe without preliminary, “that you intend to pay John Radway nothing for the work done on the Cass Branch this winter. Is that true?”
Daly studied his antagonist meditatively. “If it is true, what is it to you?” he asked at length.
“I am acting in Mr. Radway's interest.”