Page:The Trail Rider (1924).pdf/24

 "I said what kind of a job're you lookin' for, if you're lookin' for any?"

Most any kind."

"Can you tend bar?"

"Well, I never did, sir."

"Maybe you can deal faro?"

"I'm afraid I'd fail to give satisfaction at it, sir."

"Huh!" said Uncle Boley, in the manner of a man who had so little faith that it almost amounted to contempt. Presently he brightened a bit and looked up hopefully.

"Can you cook or carpenter?"

Texas smiled, a smile that illuminated his face like a light within. He shook his head slowly, fighting the smile back to the corners of his mouth, the corners of his dark eyes.

"No, sir. I wouldn't be a bit of good at either of them."

"Huh!" said Uncle Boley, with a little more stress on it than before.

He returned to his work with the air of a man who knew himself to be in for a bad job, and determined to have it off his hands as soon as possible. Uncle Boley had canvassed the list of possibilities in Cottonwood for a man who wore shoes. Outside of the arts and crafts named nobody went around in shoes; and if a man who wore them could