"I'm going to stay here on this job until I get
ready to leave it. You can tell me what to do and how to do it but
when you speak to me again say 'McGregor'--Mr. McGregor, that's my
name."
The German got to his feet and began walking down the passageway
between the rows of piled barrels. As he went he helped himself along
with his hands. McGregor went back to work. After the retreating form
of the German he shouted, "Get a new place when you can Dutch, I'll be
taking this job away from you when I'm ready for it."
That evening as McGregor walked to the car he saw the little grey-
haired superintendent standing waiting for him before a saloon. The
man made a sign and McGregor walked across and stood beside him. They
went together into the saloon and stood leaning against the bar and
looked at each other. A smile played about the lips of the little man.
"What have you been doing to Frank?" he asked.
McGregor turned to the bartender who stood waiting before him. He
thought that the superintendent intended to try to patronise him by
buying him a drink and he did not like the thought. "What will you
have? I'll take a cigar for mine," he said quickly, defeating the
superintendent's plan by being the first to speak. When the bartender
brought the cigars McGregor paid for them and walked out at the door.
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