“I know my rights!”
The kid was still yelling even as the cop tucked his head into the squad car. Tony took a long draw of his cigar and shook his head.
There was one of them at every stop, getting the other carnies all riled up. They’d go all union when they looked at their paycheck and saw the surcharges: meals, uniforms, lodging fees. But they’d signed the contract
He crushed the cigar stub under a boot heel and walked away. In Barstow, he was getting illegals. Most of them couldn’t even read the checks, let alone cash them.
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