PICKERS WANTED INQUIRE WITHIN
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Andy hesitated. He had never been in a saloon before, but he was desperate. All he wanted was a job.
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Several unkempt men lounged at the counter. They looked up as Andy entered.
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"You want something?" asked a large man coming from a side room.
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"Ya, I saw your sign. I need work," Andy told him.
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"Hey, Rafe," yelled the man, turning to the room he just came from.
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At the doorway, the dirty faded curtain parted. Out stepped a short man with an ugly scar on his cheek. Andy thought he looked mean.
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"This Baggy Britches wants work."
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Was Andy being dubbed with a nickname again? At home it was Fettkessel (lard kettle). Now this!
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"So!" Rafe eyed Andy. He walked slowly around him and sized him up for a farm boy. Rafe asked, "Ever pick cotton?"
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"No, but I'm willing to learn."
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They talked a while longer, then Rafe said sternly, "I'll try you, boy, but you'd better put your back to it. Get some pants that fit, or you'll be trippin' all over yourself."
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"I can't. My things were all stolen on my way here."
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"We will fix you up with something. Can't have those baggy britches hamperin' you. Where you stayin'?"
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"I just got here, and I'll be looking for a place."
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