The “super,” after staring at Hal, could not keep from laughing. Then he looked about him. “You want to be careful, talking about such things.”
“I thought I could surely trust the superintendent,” said Hal, drily.
The other measured him with his keen eyes; and Hal, who was getting the spirit of political democracy, took the liberty of returning the gaze. “You're a wide-awake young fellow,” said Cartwright, at last. “Learn the ropes here, and make yourself useful, and I'll see you're not passed over.”
“All right, sir—thank you.”
“Maybe you'll be made an election-clerk this time. That's worth three dollars a day, you know.”
“Very good, sir.” And Hal put on his smile again. “They tell me you're the mayor of North Valley.”
“I am.”
“And the justice of the peace is a clerk in your store. Well, Mr. Cartwright, if you need a president of the board of health or a dog catcher, I'm your man—as soon, that is, as my wrist gets well.”
And so Hal went on his way. Such “joshing” on the part of a “buddy” was of course absurdly presumptuous; the superintendent stood looking after him with a puzzled frown upon his face.