“Me go to him, when it's been me paying him wages? I guess when his money's gone he'll think differently about who's to do the running back and forth! I'll quit business before I'll jump at the snapping of his fingers!” But a week later when it seemed this was the very thing he would be forced to do, he sent his bookkeeper once again to the mechanic. “Sort of smooth him down, Williams!” he said. “He always was a cross-grained cuss! Make him the prettiest speech you can, but fetch him back herewith you, we're just playing hell with them two jobs!” And Williams found Tom Benson still by his open window, still in his shirt-sleeves, still with his chin in his palms, and still smoking. He interpreted Mr. Bendy's request for a speedy audience with all possible tact. The mechanic remained unmoved. “Bendy knows where to find me when he needs me; and don't you come back here, Williams, unless you want I should throw you down them steps.” But Bendy waited yet another day in the hope that Tom Benson would relent, then he hurried to the mechanic's boarding-place. The latter heard him on the stairs, and as he entered the room, put out a long muscular leg and courteously kicked a chair toward him. He pointed to it with the stem of the pipe he had taken from between his teeth. “Set down,” he said. “What's your proposition, Tom?” demanded Bendy gruffly. “Me—oh, I ain't making none now. I'd a gone to you if I'd one to make like I done before, but your coming to me sort of made me think—” Here he broke off to ask, “How are you getting on with them engines anyhow?” “All right,” said Bendy, with stern untruth. “That's good,” was Benson's only comment. “Come! what's your proposition, Tom?” urged Bendy irritably. “Oh, well, you ain' needing me so very bad, I guess you made a mistake in coming round.” “What would you say to a fourth interest in the shops?” “I wouldn't even say thank you,” shifting his position to spit out of the window. “You wouldn't!” “I wouldn't. That was to have been my proposition three weeks ago, but the parts of them engines warn't laying about the shops then, like so much scrap iron. That makes a difference.” “I suppose you're standing off for more of an interest! Pretty underhanded of you to creep up like this!” “Well, I'm going to stop creeping. I reckon this will set me on my legs good and fair,” and Benson grinned. “Is it a half you're after, Tom?” demanded Bendy sourly. “Well, yes, make it a fair half, and I'm your man!”