"You're a square kid and I like you."
"I appreciate your kindness, I assure you, and I will write a letter to the owner of the show about you this evening when I get back to the car. Have you any ladders that we can borrow, and a long rope?"
"I reckon you'll find all them things in the hay barn.
Help yourself. I've got to run up to the back farm, but
maybe I'll be back before you get through your job.
So long."
Phil hurried back to the road, where Billy and the wagon were waiting. The lad's feet felt lighter than usual.
"Well, what luck?" demanded Billy.
"I may be a poor apology as a billposter, but as a diplomat I'm a winner, Billy."
"You—you don't mean you got the silo?" gasped Conley.
"I got the silo, and I can have the hog pen too, if I want it, and perhaps the farmer's house thrown in for good measure," answered Phil, his face flushed from his first triumph as a publicity showman.
"Well, of all the nerve!"
"That's what the farmer said," laughed Phil. "But he changed his mind."