"That's just exactly what I was after," Hamilton said with delight. "How do I cover it, sir? In the saddle?"
"You can drive, if you want to," the supervisor replied, "and if it wasn't for the agricultural schedules, I think it would be easier to do the work from a buggy. But with the field work to consider, and in a district as scattered as yours is, the saddle might work out better."
"I had been thinking of that," Hamilton said, "if a farmer was on the other side of a plowed patch, I'd have no way of getting to him in a buggy except by tying the horse and walking, while in the saddle I could easily take short cuts. And I imagine, in a countryside such as you say this is, I'll probably need to see every one on the place in order to get anything like accurate figures."
"It's not at all unlikely," the supervisor rejoined. "Well, I thought you would be needing a horse, and I've been looking round for one for some time. I think I have the very one you will want. I told the owner to hold back sale until you had a chance to look at her."
"Then the quicker I see the owner, the better?" suggested the boy.
"I think I had better go with you," the supervisor said, "and then they won't try any over-clever work. Horse-dealing isn't always the most guileless business, you know."
"So I've understood," Hamilton said, "and I really don't know enough to judge the fine points of a horse."
"I was born and bred in the Blue Grass," his friend remarked, "and so I've been around horses pretty much all my days. The census work is quite a change from that."
"I hope you didn't have any bother over my coming in this somewhat irregular way?" asked Hamilton, remembering what Mr. Burns had said to him in Washington.
The supervisor laughed.