Adam Banks slouched into hearing before Hiram could reply.
"Well?" asked Mr. Bronson briskly of the newcomer. "Do you wish to see me?"
"I hear you are hiring men for spring work, Mr. Bronson," said Banks respectfully. "I'd like a job."
"I am not hiring anybody at Sunnyside," the farm owner said promptly. "That is all in Mr. Strong's hands. If he likes your looks and can make use of you—"
"That kid!" interrupted Adam Banks, turning red in the face and glaring scornfully at Hiram. "I want work all right, but—"
"You don't act as though you do," Mr. Bronson interposed. "Mr. Strong is in charge here."
"Why don't you get a man to run your farm for you, Mr. Bronson?" asked Banks boldly. "You know my dad owns a good farm, and I've been brought up to work. And I'm a voter. Why don't you give a young man like me a chance to show you what can be done here on Sunnyside?"
"Well, now," Mr. Bronson said, his eyes twinkling, "I really didn't know about you when I was looking about for a farmer. What's your name?"
"Ad Banks. You know my dad."
"I presume so. Well, Mr. Banks, I fear it is too late now. A bargain is a bargain. I have hired Mr. Strong—"