“I’ll do them, thanks, and mighty glad to,” answered Wayne eagerly. “Huh!” ejaculated June. “Go on away from here, Mas’ Wayne. You ain’ never washed no window in your life. White man, point me out to water and rags and _let_ me to it. Mas’ Wayne ain’ never done no work like that an’ there ain’ no call for him to do any.” June paused and looked at the windows. “Mister Denny, them’s pretty big windows an’ they certainly is dirty, ain’ they?” “What’s the matter with you? Ain’t fifty cents enough?” “Well, sir,” answered June slowly, “it is an’ it ain’. Takin’ into estimation the size of them windows an’ the ’mount of washin’ required, sir, it seems like you might throw in two more cups of that yere coffee, sir!” “Junius, you’re all right!” laughed the man, turning to the gleaming coffee urn. “It’s a bargain. Drink your coffee and then get to work. If you do a good job I’ll throw in a sandwich when you’re through!” CHAPTER III THE SEARCH FOR WORK Two hours later the boys, followed by Sam, left the lunch-wagon, possessed of thirty cents in money and with all liabilities discharged. Wayne, declaring that, although he had never washed a window in his life, it was time he learned how, had, to June’s disgust, taken a hand in the work, and, while he had done only three windows to June’s five, had proved his ability. Afterward, Mr. Dennis Connor--for that, as they later learned, was his real name--had provided a collation of sandwiches and coffee and dismissed them with his good wishes and an invitation to drop in again when they were passing. It was mid-morning now, and the sunshine had warmed the early March day to a temperature more kindly than any they had experienced for a week. Wayne led the way to a sheltered nook in the lee of an empty shed near the railroad and seated himself on a discarded wheelbarrow. June followed suit and Sam began an excited search for rats. The town was wide-awake and very busy now. Smoke poured from neighbouring stacks and chimneys and the roar of machinery came to them from the big factory close by. Trains passed and locomotives shrieked and clanged their brazen bells. Drays and trucks moved noisily along the cobbled street in the direction of the freight yard, piled high with goods in bales and boxes. “Reckon,” said June, “this is a right smart town, Mas’ Wayne.” Wayne nodded. He was still regretting the loss of his money and now he reverted to the question of how and where he had parted from it. They discussed it at some length and eventually decided that it had somehow got out of his pocket last night in the freight car. To be quite, quite certain that it was really gone, Wayne once more emptied his pockets and turned them all inside out. But the money was not there and June shook his kinky head in silent sympathy. Sam gave up his rat hunt and threw himself, panting, in the sunlight at the boys’ feet.