“You imagine perhaps that you know something about planting. I’ve known other young men to make the same mistake.”
“Perhaps I can learn,” answered Arthur in placid tones. “I have learned some things quite as difficult in my life.”
“But you don’t know anything about planting, and if you try it without an overseer you’ll find your account at your commission merchant’s distressingly short at the end of the year.”
“I don’t know about that,” broke in John Meaux. “You predicted the same thing in my case, you remember, Mr. Peyton, when I came back after graduating at West Point, and yet I’ve managed to keep some hams in my meat house for fifteen years now,—and I never had an overseer.”
Ignoring Meaux’s interruption Peyton said to Arthur:
“And you know you’ve got a law-suit on your hands.”
“Have I? I didn’t know it.”
“Why, of course, Williams will sue. You see he was engaged for the year, and the contract lasts till January.”
“Who made the contract?” asked Arthur.
“Well, I did—acting for your uncle.”