But he did not think of going to poor Thekla for comfort,
he went to his grim dreams. "I git my property all straight
for Thekla, and then I quit," said he. Perhaps he gave himself
a reprieve unconsciously, thinking that something might happen
to save him from himself. Nothing happened. None of the "boys"
came to see him, except Carl Olsen, the very stupidest man
in the shop, who put Lieders beside himself fifty times a day.
The other men were sorry that Lieders had gone, having a genuine
workman's admiration for his skill, and a sort of underground
liking for the unreasonable old man because he was so absolutely
honest and "a fellow could always tell where to find him."
But they were shy, they were afraid he would take their pity
in bad part, they "waited a while."

Carl, honest soul, stood about in Lieders's workshop, kicking the
shavings with his heels for half an hour, and grinned sheepishly,
and was told what a worthless, scamping, bragging lot the "boys"
at Lossing's were, and said he guessed he had got to go home now;
and so departed, unwitting that his presence had been a consolation.
Mrs. Olsen asked Carl what Lieders said; Carl answered simply,
"Say, Freda, that man feels terrible bad."

Meanwhile Thekla seemed easily satisfied. She made no outcry
as Lieders had dreaded, over his leaving the shop.

"Well, then, papa, you don't need git up so early in the morning
no more, if you aint going to the shop," was her only comment;
and Lieders despised the mind of woman more than ever.