"No--not exactly. That is," he hastened to say, "not if I'm worth my keep. I came out here to--to get busy and take care of myself. I'll strike a job of some sort--anything, I don't care what it is or where it takes me. When I'm ready to work, I'll eat. I ought to get work right away, oughtn't I?" In his voice was a sudden pleading born of the fear awakened by his realization of absolute helplessness, as though he looked for assurance to strengthen his feeble hopes, but hardly dared expect it. The little man looked him over gravely from the heels of his flat shoes to the crown of his rakishly soft hat. He pushed his Stetson far back on his gray hair. "To be sure, and I guess you won't have to look far for work," he said. "I've been combin' this town dry for a hand all day. If you'd like to take a chance workin' for me I'd be mighty glad to take you on--right off. I'm only waitin' to find a man--can't go home till I do. Consider yourself hired!" He turned on his heel and started off. But Danny did not follow. He felt distrust; he thought the kindness of the other was going too far; he suspected charity. "Come on!" the man snapped, turning to look at the loitering Danny. "Have I got to rope an' drag you to grub?" "But--you see it's--this way," the boy stammered. "Do you really want me? Can I do your work? How do you know I'm worth even a meal?" A slow grin spread over the Westerner's countenance. "Friend," he drawled in his high, nasal tone, "it's a pretty poor polecat of a man who ain't worth a meal; an' it's a pretty poor specimen who goes hirin' without makin' up his mind sufficient. They ain't many jobs in this country, but just now they's fewer men. We've got used to bein' careful pickers. I've done my pickin'. Come on." Only half willingly the boy followed. They walked through the restaurant, the old man saluting the lone individual who presided over the place, which was kitchen and dining room in one. "Hello, Jed," the proprietor cried, waving a fork. "How's things?" "Finer 'n frog's hair!" the other replied, shoving open the broken screen door at the rear. "This is where we abolute," he remarked, indicating the dirty wash-basin, the soap which needed a boiling out itself, and the discouraged, service-stiffened towel. Danny looked dubiously at the array. He had never seen as bad, to say nothing of having used such; but the man with him sloshed water into the basin from a tin pail and said: "You're next, son, you're next." And Danny plunged his bared wrists into the water. It was good, it was cool; and he forgot the dirty receptacle in the satisfaction that came with drenching his aching head and dashing the cooling water over his throat. The other stood and watched, his eyes busy, his face reflecting the rapid workings of his mind.