When he said to the office boys, "I want to see the man who has charge of hiring the hands," they told him to wait a while in a tone of voice which he had never before encountered.
His blood flamed hot in an instant over their calm insolence.

Eventually he found his way into a room where a surly fat man sat writing.

He looked up over his shoulder and snarled out: "Well, what is it?
What do you want ?" Harold controlled himself and replied: "I want to get a job; I'm a cattleman from Colorado, and I'd like----" "I don't care where you're from; we've got all the men we want.

See Mr.
White, don't come bothering me." Harold put his hand on the man's shoulder with the gesture of an angry leopard, and a yellow glare filled his eyes, from which the brutal boss shrank as if from a flame.
With a powerful effort he pulled himself up short and said: "Treat the next cattleman that comes your way a little more decent or you'll get a part of your lung carried away.

Good day." He walked out with the old familiar numbness in his body and the red flashes wavering before his eyes.