"Come, don't be stingy! You get good pay, and can afford to stand treat. We poor canvas men only have $15 a month."
"If this will do you any good," said Robert, producing a silver quarter, "you are welcome to it."
"Thank you; you'd better come in, too."
Robert sacrificed the coin to regain his freedom, as Carden's entering the saloon seemed to offer the only mode of release.
"What a stuck-up young jackanapes!" muttered Carden, as he entered the saloon. "He thinks a deal of himself, and don't want to have nought to do with me because I'm a poor canvas man. I doubt he's got a good deal of money hid away somewhere, for he don't spend much. I heard Charlie Davis say the other day Bob had $200."
Carden's eyes glittered with cupidity as the thought passed through his mind.
"I'd like to get hold of it," he muttered to himself. "It would be a fortune for a poor canvas man, and he wouldn't miss it, for he could soon gain as much more. I wonder where he keeps it."
"It's the worst of the life I lead," said Robert to himself, as he walked on, "that I am thrown into the company of such men as that. It isn't because they are poor that I object to them, for I am not rich myself; but a man needn't be low because he is poor and earning small pay. I suppose Carden and the other canvas men think I am proud because I don't seek their company, but they are mistaken. I have nothing in common with them, except that we are all in the employ of the same manager. Besides, I do talk with Madigan. He is a canvas man, but he has had a good education and is fitted for something better, and only takes up with this rather than be idle."
Half an hour after, Charlie Davis joined him.
"Rob," said Charlie, "I met Carden, just now. He was half drunk, and pitching into you."