This latter was massively built, and wore overalls and low boots
streaked and stained and spotted in every direction with gray mud. The
dentist looked slowly from one to the other; then at length, "Is the
foreman about?" he asked.
The man in the muddy overalls came forward.
"What you want?"
He spoke with a strong German accent.
The old invariable formula came back to McTeague on the instant.
"What's the show for a job?"
At once the German foreman became preoccupied, looking aimlessly out of
the window. There was a silence.
"You hev been miner alretty?"
"Yes, yes."
"Know how to hendle pick'n shov'le?"
"Yes, I know."
The other seemed unsatisfied. "Are you a 'cousin Jack'?"
The dentist grinned. This prejudice against Cornishmen he remembered
too.
"No. American."
"How long sence you mine?"
"Oh, year or two."
"Show your hends." McTeague exhibited his hard, callused palms.
"When ken you go to work? I want a chuck-tender on der night-shift."
"I can tend a chuck. I'll go on to-night."
"What's your name?"
The dentist started. He had forgotten to be prepared for this.
"Huh? What?"
"What's the name?"
McTeague's eye was caught by a railroad calendar hanging over the desk.
Pages:
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456