“Because, if it is, I want you to do some business for me—for father,” says Catty.
“What is it?”
“Be you married?” says Catty.
“Never was. Never will be.”
“Then you’ll do,” says Catty. “I want you to take this lease in your name, not ours.”
“Why?”
Catty started in and told him the whole business about how him and his father came to town, and about Mrs. Gage, and about how he wanted to be respectable, and about what we heard at the church awhile ago, and about Jim Bockers coming to town to be a competitor.
“That’s the only store he kin rent,” says Catty, “so he’ll have to rent it. When he comes I want you should rent it to him, but the rent ’ll be twenty dollars a month, leavin’ me a profit of seven-fifty. Make him take a year’s lease. Git the idee?”
Mr. Wade looked at Catty. “Napoleon couldn’t ’a’ thought up a better strategy,” says he. “Young feller, you come to the right place. I’ll do what you want, and glad to. There won’t be no charge, neither. And any time I kin do anything to help you, why, you come a-hustlin’ right up here. Never can tell. Some day I might do you some good.”
“Much obleeged,” says Catty. “We won’t bother you any more.”