“But that will break my mother’s heart. I know! I know! I’ve often heard her ask him, and Antonio tell her–he said that your wages were always taken out before he brought what little money he could to her. I know you said something about ‘arrears’ last night, but I didn’t understand. What are ‘arrears,’ Samson?”
“Blow me, for an old numskull. Why couldn’t I keep my long tongue still! I only meant that we are willing, we want, we must work for you and all the Trents for nothing till we’ve made up part to ’em of what that sweet ‘senor’ cheated ’em of. That’s all. We’ve settled it. No use for anybody to try change our minds, even if there was spot cash lying around loose, waiting to be picked up and you havin’ no call for it. Not one of which conditions hits the case.”
“You are a good talker, dear old Samson, and a long one. I can talk, too, sometimes. Maybe you’ve heard me! You’ve read me your chart. Hear mine. It’s my father’s own–that he always meant, but was never able to follow. That I know my mother wants to follow for his sake, though she does know so little of business. Now, if we’re starting fresh, with the clean slates you like, we’ll put this at the top: ‘share and share alike.’ There was another long name dear father used to call it–I––”
“Co-operation,” suggested John Benton.
“Yes, yes. That’s it. As soon as he was out of debt and had a right to do what he would with Sobrante, he meant to run it that way. But you know, you know. It was only that last day when he came home so late from that far-off town that he had his own ‘title’ and was all ready to do as he wished. Let us do that now. I know how. He told me. He was to make you, Samson, responsible for all the cattle on the ranch. You were to hire as many of the other boys as you needed and were to have a just share for your own money. The more you made out of the cattle the better it would be for yourself. Isn’t that right?”
“Right to a dot. Atlantic! but you’ve a head for business, captain!”
“I’ve a head must learn business, if I’m to be your captain. That is true enough. It isn’t my father’s fault if I don’t know some simple things. He was always teaching me, because Ned was too little and my mother–well, business always worried her and he’d do anything to save her worry, even talk to a little girl like me. And as Samson was to do with the cattle, so George Cromarty was to do with the raisins and oranges. The ostriches–Oh! but they were to be Antonio’s charge. And now––”
“They’re yours, captain, with any one or lot of us you choose for helpers.”
“Ferd knew much about them, and they minded him. But––”
“Ferd’ll trouble Sobrante none while the senor is away. Joe is a good hand at all live stock, and I’ll pledge you’ll get every feather that’s plucked when he does the counting. He won’t let any eggs get cooked in hatchin’, neither. You can trust Joseph–if you watch him a mite.”