“Mr. Hayes, I am going home with you!”
“Human natur’! Be you, though?” exclaimed the farmer. “I’m glad to hear you say so.”
“But, first,” continued Tom, “I want to ask you one question. Must I saw wood?”
“O, no,” answered Mr. Hayes, laughing, “I’ve got a strappin’ big boy to do all that ar’ kind of work.”
“That’s all right!” said Tom, immensely relieved. “That’s one point settled. Now, I shall charge you eight dollars a month! That’s what I received when I was a sailor, and I can’t work for a cent less. Will you pay it?”
“That’s a big price for a chap as don’t know nothin’ ’bout farmin’,” said Mr. Hayes. “But we won’t quarrel ’bout a few dollars. It’s a bargain.”
“Then I’ll go with you!” said Tom, delighted that his demands had been so readily complied with. “I knew I’d suit you. Won’t I have a jolly time milking cows and driving horses!”
“Sartin!” said the farmer, who seemed as highly elated as Tom himself.
“Now, then,” said Mr. Newcombe, who had stood by listening to this conversation, “go home and bid your mother good-by. By that time Mr. Hayes will have his wagon unloaded.”