ps, a far-away
look in the slate-blue eyes. With a little jerk he emerged from
reverie and asked:

"And what d'ye expect to take up here in Frisco?"

Hiram scraped his chair still closer. "I don't know," he acknowledged.
"To tell the truth, I'm pretty green. I don't know anybody here and
don't know where to begin."

"Don't say green," corrected the other. "That's obsolete. Say raw, or
that you're a hick, or a come-on. Well, what d'ye want to follow?"

"I thought if I could get into some big man's office and work up, I
might reach----"

The other man raised his hand protestingly and his face assumed a sick
expression.

"Forget it! Forget it!" he cried. "Say, that's the biggest mistake a
fella like you could make. Your feet are too big for an office. Say,
take this from me: An office man is always an office man. He knows the
figgers--nothing else. The fella out on the works is the lad that
knows the fundamentals of the job. Take this railroad-construction
business, for instance: When the contractor wants a new general
superintendent he don't make him out of an office man. He goes out on
the job and gets him. You get offices outa your head, and get out and
learn something." He was thoughtful a minute, then finished with the
question: "How long are you on cash?"

"I haven't got much," Hiram confessed--"sixty some dollars."

"M'm-m," the other said musingly. Then, after another thoughtful
pause: "Say, I suppose you're a little shy about bracin' these
employment men, ain't you?"

Hiram nodded.

"Then I'll tell you what I'll do: You go to work and dig up my fee, and
I'll go down to southern California with you on the jerkline job. I
been wantin' to get outa Frisco for a week, but couldn't raise the
price. Anywhere'll suit me, where there's a chance o' makin' a little
stake. That's what you wanta do--go to work and make a stake. Then
look about for something you c'n float for yourself. There's nothin'
in working for somebody else. Work for yourself if it's only running a
peanut stand. Southern California'll do. What d'ye say?"

"D'ye mean you're broke?"

"Broke! I'm ruined!"

"How did you lose your money?" Hiram asked innocently.

"You're askin' for the story o' my life. What d'ye say, now? Le's go
to work and get breakfast, then enter Morgan & Stroud's in our usual
graceful manner and tell 'em we've decided to accept their kind offer
and let 'em ship us south. You'll probably le