to drink when I was in hospital. Funny, ain't it? But
when I've ben workin' like a slave all week, I just got to bowl up. Ever
noticed that cooks drink like hell?--an' bakers, too? It's the work.
They've sure got to. Here, lemme pay half of that telegram."

"I'll shake you for it," Martin offered.

"Come on, everybody drink," Joe called, as they rattled the dice and
rolled them out on the damp bar.

Monday morning Joe was wild with anticipation. He did not mind his
aching head, nor did he take interest in his work. Whole herds of
moments stole away and were lost while their careless shepherd gazed out
of the window at the sunshine and the trees.

"Just look at it!" he cried. "An' it's all mine! It's free. I can lie
down under them trees an' sleep for a thousan' years if I want to. Aw,
come on, Mart, let's chuck it. What's the good of waitin' another
moment. That's the land of nothin' to do out there, an' I got a ticket
for it--an' it ain't no return ticket, b'gosh!"

A few minutes later, filling the truck with soiled clothes for the
washer, Joe spied the hotel manager's shirt. He knew its mark, and with
a sudden glorious consciousness of freedom he threw it on the floor and
stamped on it.

"I wish you was in it, you pig-headed Dutchman!" he shouted. "In it, an'
right there where I've got you! Take that! an' that! an' that! damn you!
Hold me back, somebody! Hold me back!"

Martin laughed and held him to his work. On Tuesday night the new
laundrymen arrived, and the rest of the week was spent breaking them into
the routine. Joe sat around and explained his system, but he did no more
work.

"Not a tap," he announced. "Not a tap. They can fire me if they want
to, but if they do, I'll quit. No more work in mine, thank you kindly.
Me for the freight cars an' the shade under the trees. Go to it, you
slaves! That's right. Slave an' sweat! Slave an' sweat! An' when
you're dead, you'll rot the same as me, an' what's it matter how you
live?--eh? Tell me that--what's it matter in the long run?"

On Saturday they drew their pay and came to the parting of the ways.

"They ain't no use in me askin' you to change your mind an' hit the road
with me?" Joe asked hopelessly:

Martin shook his head. He was standing by his wheel, ready to start.
They shook hands, and Joe held on to his for a moment, as he said:-

"I'm goin' to see you again, Mart, before you an' me die. That's
straight dope. I fe