“No,” said Harper tranquilly. “I know a little about anything there’s money in, and what I don’t I can learn. Bernardino’s going to show himself ’most as quick as me. It’s only modesty that’s wrong with him.”
“Well,” said Harding dryly, “he’s an Englishman. Now, Mr. Broughton, in one sense your friend is right. Adaptability is the quality we most appreciate; and a good many men in my country, including myself, have made quite a pile out of businesses they knew very little about when they took hold of them. Well, I want a straight man, with good nerves and a cool head, to run a sugar estate for me. I don’t want him to cut the cane or oil the machinery—that will be done for him; but he will have to hold my interests safe, and see I’m not unduly squeezed by the gentlemen who keep order here. If he robs me on his own account he will probably hear of it. Are you willing to take hold on a six months’ trial?”
“There is a difficulty.
“Your partner? That got over, you would be willing?”
“Yes,” said Appleby. “I should be devoutly thankful, too.”
Harding turned to Harper. “I have a kind of notion I have seen you before. I don’t mean in Santa Marta.”
“Oh yes,” said Harper, grinning. “You once had a deal with me. I ran you in a load of machinery without paying duty.”
“You did. I fancied you would have had reasons for preferring not to remember it.”
Harper laughed. “Now, it seems to me the fact that I came out ahead of Cyrus Harding ought to be a testimonial. I was fighting for my own hand then, but I never took anything I wasn’t entitled to from the man who hired me—at least, if I did I can’t remember it.”
“Don’t try it again,” said Harding, with a little grim smile. “In this case, I think it would be risky. Well, I guess I can find a use for you too, but the putting you together increases the steepness of the chances you are taking. Does that strike you?”