"Oh, yes, we'll do that, of course."
The lumber began to arrive, truck load after truck load. The first drivers to arrive at Sunnyside were very curious about the identity of the boy from the East.
"Where's the boss, son?" Hiram was asked again and again as he met strangers.
"I guess you will have to get along with me as boss," he was wont to say quietly.
"You don't mean it! Bronson hasn't hired you to run this farm?"
"Yes. I'm going to try to run it."
"Well, I always did say that Bronson was crazy," was one frank statement. "More money than brains—more money than brains! Ridiculous to give a boy like you such a job!"
"That is to be seen," Hiram said coolly. "It does not always take frost on the hair to ripen brains."
At this the man grinned and replied:
"You've got a tongue, at any rate, young fellow."