Roger nodded. He could not speak just then, for he was in the act of taking a large mouthful of bread and jam.
“Shall I tell it,” said Gabriel, “or you?”
“You,” said Roger huskily.
“You see,” began Gabriel, turning to the squire confidentially, “it is a coperative plan.”
“A what?” interrupted the squire.
“That’s not the right word,” said Roger; “he means co–co–co—”
“Oh yes, I know, co-operative. Isn’t that it?”
“Yes, that’s it, of course,” continued Gabriel, speaking very quickly for fear that Roger should take the matter out of his hands. “We’re going to put our money together, and Ben is going to put some money in too, and then we shall buy a pig; and when it has a litter we shall sell them, and perhaps buy a calf, and so we shall get some live stock, and have a farm, and share the profits.”
Gabriel sat very upright while he spoke, with a deepening flush on his cheeks. The squire leaned forward with a hand on each knee, and listened attentively.
“Well,” he said, “that seems a good plan. Where’s the farm to be? In the vicarage garden?”