Presently he decided that he would go to Atlanta, and that he
would write a note to Mrs. Floyd, telling her of his change of plans.
He took up a sheet of paper and began the note, but was interrupted by
Washburn's step outside. He crumpled the paper in his hand, quickly
thrust it into his pocket, and pretended to be looking over the pages
of the ledger which lay open on the desk.
"Hello!" Washburn stood in the doorway. "I didn't know you wus heer.
Anything gone wrong?"
"No; why?"
"It's a little early fer you, that's all." Washburn dropped his brush
and currycomb under the desk, and, full of concern, stood looking down
at him.
"Thought I'd come down before breakfast" said Westerfelt. "How was
business yesterday?"
"Good; nearly everything out, and it wus most all cash--very little
booked."
"Wash?"
"Yes, sir."
"How much did I agree to pay you by the month?"
"Thirty dollars." Washburn glanced at the open ledger. "Have I made
any mistake?"
"No, but--but I've been making you do all the work. It isn't fair.
Credit yourself with forty dollars a month from the start and keep it
up.
Pages:
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321