The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists [13]
like a beggar soliciting charity.
`Be any use calling in a day or so, sir?'
'Don't think so,' Hunter replied. `Can if you like; but we're full up.'
'Thank you, sir,' said the man, and turned back to his friends.
By this time Hunter was within a few yards of one of the other two men, who also came to speak to him. This man felt there was no hope of getting a job; still, there was no harm in asking. Besides, he was getting desperate. It was over a month now since he had finished up for his last employer. It had been a very slow summer altogether. Sometimes a fortnight for one firm; then perhaps a week doing nothing; then three weeks or a month for another firm, then out again, and so on. And now it was November. Last winter they had got into debt; that was nothing unusual, but owing to the bad summer they had not been able, as in other years, to pay off the debts accumulated in winter. It was doubtful, too, whether they would be able to get credit again this winter. In fact this morning when his wife sent their little girl to the grocer's for some butter the latter had refused to let the child have it without the money. So although he felt it to be useless he accosted Hunter.
This time Hunter stopped: he was winded by his climb up the hill.
`Good afternoon. sir.' Hunter did not return the salutation; he had not the breath to spare, but the man was not hurt; he was used to being treated like that.
`Any chance of a job, sir?'
Hunter did not reply at once. He was short of breath and he was thinking of a plan that was ever recurring to his mind, and which he had lately been hankering to put into execution. It seemed to him that the long waited for opportunity had come. Just now Rushton & Co. were almost the only firm in Mugsborough who had any work. There were dozens of good workmen out. Yes, this was the time. If this man agreed he would give him a start. Hunter knew the man was a good workman, he had worked for Rushton & Co. before. To make room for him old Linden and some other full-price man could be got rid of; it would not be difficult to find some excuse.
`Well,' Hunter said at last in a doubtful, hesitating kind of way, `I'm afraid not, Newman. We're about full up.'
He ceased speaking and remained waiting for the other to say something more. He did not look at the man, but stooped down, fidgeting with the mechanism of the bicycle as if adjusting it.
`Things have been so bad this summer,' Newman went on. `I've had rather a rough time of it. I would be very glad of a job even if it was only for a week or so.'
There was a pause. After a while, Hunter raised his eyes to the other's face, but immediately let them fall again. `Well,' said he, `I might - perhaps - be able to let you have a day or two. You can come here to this job,' and he nodded his head in the direction of the house where the men were working. `Tomorrow at seven. Of course you know the figure?' he added as Newman was about to thank him. `Six and a half.'
Hunter spoke as if the reduction were already an accomplished fact. The man was more likely to agree, if he thought that others were already working at the reduced rate.
Newman was taken by surprise and hesitated. He had never worked under price; indeed, he had sometimes gone hungry rather than do so; but now it seemed that others were doing it. And then he was so awfully hard up. If he refused this job he was not likely to get another in a hurry. He thought of his home and his family. Already they owed five weeks' rent, and last Monday the collector had hinted pretty plainly that the landlord would not wait much longer. Not only that, but if he did not get a job how were they to live? This morning he himself had had no breakfast to speak of, only a cup of tea and some dry bread. These thoughts crowded upon each other in his mind, but still he hesitated. Hunter began to move off. `Well,' he said, `if you like to start you can come here at seven in the morning.' Then as Newman still hesitated he added impatiently, `Are you coming
`Be any use calling in a day or so, sir?'
'Don't think so,' Hunter replied. `Can if you like; but we're full up.'
'Thank you, sir,' said the man, and turned back to his friends.
By this time Hunter was within a few yards of one of the other two men, who also came to speak to him. This man felt there was no hope of getting a job; still, there was no harm in asking. Besides, he was getting desperate. It was over a month now since he had finished up for his last employer. It had been a very slow summer altogether. Sometimes a fortnight for one firm; then perhaps a week doing nothing; then three weeks or a month for another firm, then out again, and so on. And now it was November. Last winter they had got into debt; that was nothing unusual, but owing to the bad summer they had not been able, as in other years, to pay off the debts accumulated in winter. It was doubtful, too, whether they would be able to get credit again this winter. In fact this morning when his wife sent their little girl to the grocer's for some butter the latter had refused to let the child have it without the money. So although he felt it to be useless he accosted Hunter.
This time Hunter stopped: he was winded by his climb up the hill.
`Good afternoon. sir.' Hunter did not return the salutation; he had not the breath to spare, but the man was not hurt; he was used to being treated like that.
`Any chance of a job, sir?'
Hunter did not reply at once. He was short of breath and he was thinking of a plan that was ever recurring to his mind, and which he had lately been hankering to put into execution. It seemed to him that the long waited for opportunity had come. Just now Rushton & Co. were almost the only firm in Mugsborough who had any work. There were dozens of good workmen out. Yes, this was the time. If this man agreed he would give him a start. Hunter knew the man was a good workman, he had worked for Rushton & Co. before. To make room for him old Linden and some other full-price man could be got rid of; it would not be difficult to find some excuse.
`Well,' Hunter said at last in a doubtful, hesitating kind of way, `I'm afraid not, Newman. We're about full up.'
He ceased speaking and remained waiting for the other to say something more. He did not look at the man, but stooped down, fidgeting with the mechanism of the bicycle as if adjusting it.
`Things have been so bad this summer,' Newman went on. `I've had rather a rough time of it. I would be very glad of a job even if it was only for a week or so.'
There was a pause. After a while, Hunter raised his eyes to the other's face, but immediately let them fall again. `Well,' said he, `I might - perhaps - be able to let you have a day or two. You can come here to this job,' and he nodded his head in the direction of the house where the men were working. `Tomorrow at seven. Of course you know the figure?' he added as Newman was about to thank him. `Six and a half.'
Hunter spoke as if the reduction were already an accomplished fact. The man was more likely to agree, if he thought that others were already working at the reduced rate.
Newman was taken by surprise and hesitated. He had never worked under price; indeed, he had sometimes gone hungry rather than do so; but now it seemed that others were doing it. And then he was so awfully hard up. If he refused this job he was not likely to get another in a hurry. He thought of his home and his family. Already they owed five weeks' rent, and last Monday the collector had hinted pretty plainly that the landlord would not wait much longer. Not only that, but if he did not get a job how were they to live? This morning he himself had had no breakfast to speak of, only a cup of tea and some dry bread. These thoughts crowded upon each other in his mind, but still he hesitated. Hunter began to move off. `Well,' he said, `if you like to start you can come here at seven in the morning.' Then as Newman still hesitated he added impatiently, `Are you coming