He took a pencil and notebook from his pocket.
“You want drawing pencils and brushes; how many, what make and size?”
The Girl hesitated for a moment as if struggling to decide what to do; then she named the articles.
“And paper?”
He wrote that down, and asked if there was more.
“I think,” he said, “that I can get this order filled in Onabasha. The art stores should keep these things. And shouldn't you have water-colour paper and some paint?”
Then there was a flash across the white face.
“Oh if I only could!” she cried. “All my life I have been crazy for a box of colour, but I never could afford it, and of course, I can't now. But if this splendid plan works, and I can earn what I owe, then maybe I can.”
“Well this 'splendid plan' is going to 'work,' don't you bother about that,” said the Harvester. “It has begun working right now. Don't worry a minute. After things have gone wrong for a certain length of time, they always veer and go right a while as compensation. Don't think of anything save that you are at the turning. Since it is all settled that we are to be partners, would you name me the figures of the debt that is worrying you? Don't, if you mind. I just thought perhaps we could get along better if I knew. Is it——say five hundred dollars?”
“Oh dear no!” cried the Girl in a panic. “I never could face that! It is not quite one hundred, and that seems big as a mountain to me.”