Pilgrim to go to hell. But he went straight to headquarters with his
tale uh woe, and the Old Man is kinda uncertain these days, on account
uh not being right sure uh the widow. He feels just about obliged to
keep the Pilgrim smoothed down; he ain't worth his grub, if you ask
me."

"Oh, I ain't thinking nothing at all about it," Billy lied proudly.
"If the Old Man feels like canning me, that there's his funeral. I
reckon maybe he likes the Pilgrim's breed better for a change. And
I wouldn't be none surprised if I could get a job with some other
outfit, all right. I ain't aiming to starve--nor yet ride grub-line."

"When you analyze the thing right down to fundamentals," observed the
foreman, whom men called "Jawbreaker" for obvious reasons, "it's a
cussed shame. You're one of the oldest men with the outfit, and the
Pilgrim is the youngest--and the most inadequate. The Old Man oughta
waited till he heard both sides uh the case, and I told him so. But
he couldn't forget how the widow might feel if he canned her
stepbrother--and what's a man, more or less, in a case uh that kind?"

"Now look here, Jawbreaker," Billy protested cheerfully, "don't yuh go
oozing comfort and sympathy on my account. I don't know but what I'm
tickled to death. As yuh say, I've worked for this outfit a blame long
while--and it's maybe kinda hard on other outfits; they oughta have a
chance to use me for a spell. There's no reason why the Double-Crank
should be a hog and keep a good man forever."

The foreman studied keenly the face of Charming Billy, saw there an
immobility that somehow belied his cheerful view of the case, and
abruptly changed the subject.