", ain'tit? ButwhenI'vebenworkin' likeaslaveallweek, ?—an' bakers, too? It'', lemmepayhalfofthattelegram."

"I'llshakeyouforit," Martinoffered.

"Comeon, everybodydrink," Joecalled, astheyrattledthediceandrolledthemoutonthedampbar.

, .

"Justlookatit!" hecried."An' it'sallmine! It'' sleepforathousan' , comeon, Mart, let''sthegoodofwaitin' 'sthelandofnothin' todooutthere, an' Igotaticketforit—an' itain'tnoreturnticket, b'gosh!"

Afewminuteslater, fillingthetruckwithsoiledclothesforthewasher, Joespiedthehotelmanager', andwithasuddengloriousconsciousnessoffreedomhethrewitonthefloorandstampedonit.

"Iwishyouwasinit, youpig-headedDutchman!" heshouted."Init, an' righttherewhereI'vegotyou! Takethat! an' that! an' that! damnyou! Holdmeback, somebody! Holdmeback!"

, , buthedidnomorework.

"Notatap," heannounced.", butiftheydo, I', ' , youslaves! That'' sweat! Slavean' sweat! An' whenyou'redead, you'llrotthesameasme, an' what'sitmatterhowyoulive?—eh? Tellmethat—what'sitmatterinthelongrun?"

OnSaturdaytheydrewtheirpayandcametothepartingoftheways.

"Theyain'tnouseinmeaskin' youtochangeyourmindan' hittheroadwithme?" Joeaskedhopelessly:

, , andJoeheldontohisforamoment, ashesaid:-

"I'mgoin' toseeyouagain, Mart, beforeyouan' ', Mart, an' , youknow."

Hestood, aforlornfigure, inthemiddleoftheroad, watchinguntilMartinturnedabendandwasgonefromsight.

"He'sagoodIndian, thatboy," hemuttered."AgoodIndian."

Thenheploddeddowntheroadhimself, tothewatertank, wherehalfadozenemptieslayonaside-trackwaitingfortheupfreight.