“It’s about the water-power,” he began.
“Oh, yes,” Billy encouraged. He wasn’t thinking of much except water power these days and was glad of an opportunity to unload his enthusiasm. Besides, the boy had just commenced farming on a place of his own, and the agricultural adviser knew that young blood moves more quickly in adopting reforms. “I should think you’d have a pretty good force from that hill of yours,” he said. “What did you think of doing?”
“Well, you see,” the boy stammered, “it’s like
this. I ain’t just sure what’s the best way. I want to get married and I don’t know what to do.”
The Representative stared. He had had varied requests for advice since he came to stand for the Department of Agriculture in the community, but this was something new. Under his quizzical grin the boy reddened painfully. He had never seen the Representative’s steady brown eyes hold such a glint of amusement, and he was afraid he was going to laugh.
“I’m sorry,” Billy said without looking particularly sympathetic, “but I don’t know much about it myself. It would just be a case of the blind leading the blind.”
“Oh!” The boy began to grasp things; then he roared. “I guess you’ll learn,” he admitted dryly. “Leastways you don’t strike the neighborhood up around ‘The Heights’ as one that wasn’t interested.”
Billy felt his own face warming up. “The Heights” was the section surrounding the Evison estate, and in his evening spins over the country roads he had often met his client jogging quietly along in a rubber-tired buggy, his feet stretched out comfortably on the dashboard and his interest evidently very much absorbed in a white-robed presence beside him. Billy felt that they had a singularly common interest, and he shook hands with him across the table.
“Go ahead,” he said. “What has the water-power to do with your case?”
“If you’d been down at our club meetings oftener this summer you’d have known I was keeping company with the school-teacher.”