The agent shook his head despondently.
"Nothin' doin' eh ?" said the other.

"Well, I got to get somebody to-day." He turned and stared at Martin, and Martin, staring back, noted the puffed and discolored face, handsome and weak, and knew that he had been making a night of it.
"Lookin' for a job ?" the other queried.

"What can you do ?" "Hard labor, sailorizing, run a type-writer, no shorthand, can sit on a horse, willing to do anything and tackle anything," was the answer.
The other nodded.
"Sounds good to me.

My name's Dawson, Joe Dawson, an' I'm tryin' to scare up a laundryman." "Too much for me." Martin caught an amusing glimpse of himself ironing fluffy white things that women wear.

But he had taken a liking to the other, and he added: "I might do the plain washing.