With the arrival of the second person on the scene, the clerk had turned
away to find Henshaw, and while he was gone the rival youths stood glaring
upon each other.

After a short time a big, red-faced, soot-be-grimed man appeared, saying
as he reached them:

"If Offut will come this way I will talk with him."

"Henshaw," said the clerk simply, returning to his work, leaving the
newcomer to attend to the visitors as he thought best.

"Ha--ha!" laughed young Offut, softly, as he followed the foreman, "where
are you now, Jack North?"

Though Jack gave slight token of his feelings, he was more vexed at this
usurpation of his rights than he cared to show. He lost no time in
starting after the others in the direction of the shop. "I'm going on
twenty-one," Offut said, as they stopped at the door, "and there ain't a
chap as can outlift me."

"Beg your pardon, Mr. Henshaw," said Jack, brushing up, "but it's I who am
after the job and to whom it belongs. Mr. Jacobs--"

"Is your name Alfret Offut?" interrupted the other youth sharply in the
midst of Jack's speech. "I reckon Henshaw knows who he is talking to." "It
was me Mr. Jacobs recommended the place to, and you are trying to steal it
from me," cried Jack. "You are telling a likely story, Jack North, and if
you say another word I'll hit you. Henshaw called for me, and it's me he's
going to give work."