Catty looked at him kind of solemn. “I come to talk business,” says he, firm but polite. “If you’re figgerin’ on havin’ that barn painted, I’d like to git the chance to bid on the job.”
The men laughed again, but this time the man that was in his regular clothes says: “Let me have a word with this kid. He’s got something on his mind, I guess.” The other man nodded.
“What makes you think you could paint that barn?” says the man.
“Well,” says Catty, “we painted Mr. Manning’s big warehouse, and we done a good, satisfactory job. Mr. Manning said so. I kin refer you to him.”
“Who is we?,” says the man.
“Dad and me—and Jack Phillips. Jack’s a partner now. We calc’late to be engineers, architects, contractors, painters, and interior decorators,” says he.
“Is that all?” says the overall man. “Don’t you do plain and fancy cookin’ and crochet lace?”
Catty looked at him full in the eye for a minute and then he says, without a smile, “If you kin show me where there’s any money in it for the firm, well tackle it,” says he.
“By Jing!” says the man in the clothes, and he leaned forward a little. “Tell me some more. Are you the outside man for the firm? Do you bring in the business?”
“I’ve got most of it so far. We started in to do paintin’ and paperhangin’ alone, but the folks in town took a dislike to us and the wimmin got in another painter and paper-hanger that’s underbiddin’ us. We hain’t gettin’ much in that line. There wa’n’t nothin’ for us to do but branch out. So we went into buildin’ and architecture and sich.”