|Title||The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists|
anyone on the firm wot knows more about the work than 'e does 'imself - thinks 'e might git worked out of 'is job.'
Owen laughed bitterly.
`He needn't be afraid of ME on THAT account. I wouldn't have his job if it were offered to me.'
`But 'e don't think so,' replied Easton, `and that's why 'e's got 'is knife into you,'
`I believe that what he said about Hunter is true enough,' said Owen. `Every time he comes here he tries to goad me into doing or saying something that would give him an excuse to tell me to clear out. I might have done it before now if I had not guessed what he was after, and been on my guard.'
Meantime, Crass, in the kitchen, had resumed his seat by the fire with the purpose of finishing his pipe of tobacco. Presently he took out his pocket-book and began to write in it with a piece of black-lead pencil. When the pipe was smoked out he knocked the bowl