Pitcher Pollock

“Want to hire a boy?”

Mr. Cummings looked around and across the showcase at the youth who stood there.

“Want to what?” he asked.

“Hire a boy. I’m looking for a job.”

“Oh.” Mr. Cummings turned back to his task of rearranging a number of carpenter’s squares in a green box and made no other reply for a moment. The boy waited silently, watching interestedly. Finally, fixing the cover on the box and laying it on a shelf, “Ever worked in a hardware shop?” he asked.

“No, sir.”

“I didn’t suppose you had. What use would you be to me then, eh?” Mr. Cummings peered sharply at him.

“I could sweep and run errands and--and wash windows and the like of that,” replied the applicant imperturbably. “I’ll tell you how it is, sir. I live out to Derry, and----”

“What’s your name?”

“Tom Pollock, sir.”

“I didn’t know there were any Pollocks in Derry.”

“There ain’t, sir, except me. I live with my uncle, Mr. Bowles.”

“Israel Bowles?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Hm. So you’re Israel’s nephew, eh? Didn’t know he had any kin. Well, all right. Then what?”

“I’m going to high school next week,” went on the boy. He spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully and sometimes correcting himself as he talked. “I got to live in town because, you see, I couldn’t get back and forth every day.”

“Aren’t the trains running out to Derry any more?”

“Yes, sir, but--but it would cost too much, you see. So I thought maybe if I could get some work here in Amesville----”

“How in tarnation do you expect to work and go to school too?”

“I don’t have to go to school until half-past eight and I’d be all through by three, and I thought if I could find some work to do in the morning before school and then in the afternoon----”

“I see. Well, I guess you wouldn’t be worth much money to anyone, working that way, son.”

“No, sir, that’s what I thought. I wasn’t expecting to get much, either.”

“Weren’t, eh? How much?”

“Well, about----” He hesitated, viewing the merchant anxiously. “Of course I don’t know much about what folks pay, but Uncle Israel said----”

“Hold on a bit,” interrupted Mr. Cummings suspiciously. “Did that old--did Israel Bowles tell you to come to me?”

“No, sir. I just started up at the other end of town and worked along. I’ve been at it most all morning.”

“Hm. Didn’t find anything, eh?”

“Not yet,” answered Tom cheerfully. “I got--I’ve got the other side of the street yet, though. An’--and I ain’t--haven’t been on the side streets at all. I guess I’ll find something.”

“Hope you do,” said the merchant. “But I guess you wouldn’t be much use to me. How much did you say you wanted?”

“Two--two and a half a week,” said the boy. He gulped as he said it and looked questioningly at the merchant. “I thought,” he continued as Mr. Cummings’s countenance told him nothing, “that if I could get enough to pay my lodging I’d make out, sir.”

“Got to eat, though, haven’t you?”

“I--I got a little saved up, sir. I worked for a man over to--over in Fairfield most of the summer.”

“What for? Isn’t your uncle hiring help any more? Hasn’t given up farming, has he?”

“No, sir, but--well, I made more working for Mr. Billings.”

“I’ll bet you did!” Mr. Cummings chuckled. “I know that uncle of yours, son, from A to Izzard, and there isn’t a meaner old skinflint in Muskingum County! He owes me nearly sixty-five dollars, and he’s been owing it for nearly six years, and I guess he’ll keep on owing it unless I sue him for it. Bought a pump of me and then claimed it didn’t work right and wouldn’t ever send it back or pay for it, the old rascal! Yes, I guess sure enough you did better working somewheres else, son!”

Tom had nothing to say to this. Perhaps, as a dutiful nephew, he should have stood up for Uncle Israel, but the hardware dealer’s estimate of Mr. Bowles was a very general one and Tom had long since become accustomed to hearing just such remarks passed. Finally, as the merchant seemed to have finished talking, Tom said:

“I’m sorry. Well, I guess I’ll be going on. Unless--unless you think maybe----”

“Wait a minute.” Mr. Cummings had opened the slide at the back of the showcase and was absent-mindedly rearranging some boxes of pocket-knives and scissors. At last, shutting the slide again briskly: “Look here, son, maybe you and I can make a dicker yet. Two and a half isn’t a whole lot of money, even if times are pretty bad. I might give you that much and not go broke, eh? How long do you suppose you could work here at the store ordinarily?”

“Why, I could be around by half-past six, I think, sir, and work until about eight-twenty-five. The school ain’t--isn’t far. Then after school I’d stay around as long as you wanted me. I--I’d like mighty well to work for you, sir.”

“Hm. Well, you look pretty strong and healthy. There’d be a lot of heavy work to do. Hardware’s hefty stuff to handle, son.” Tom nodded, undismayed. “I wasn’t exactly thinking of hiring anyone yet awhile. Usually along about November we have an extra helper, but fall is a dull time, mostly. What about Saturdays? Don’t have to go to school then, do you?”