Later he sought out Jack again. They sat on a bench at the edge of the bank, and Garrod suffered himself to answer some painful questions first, in order that he might not appear to be too eager to broach the subject that agitated his mind.
At last he said with an assumed heartiness in which there was something very painful to see: "I tell you it did me good to hear you giving the old man what for this afternoon. He leads me a dog's life!"
"Oh, that was only in the way of a dicker," said Jack carelessly. "He expected it. Any one could see he loves a bargain."
"Don't let yourself in for this one," said Garrod earnestly. "You'll repent it if you do. He'll interfere all the time, and insist on his own way, then blame you when things go wrong."
"The trouble with you is you're in awe of him because he's the Big Chief outside," said Jack. "That doesn't go up here."
"Then you mean to come?" faltered Garrod.
"If he accepts my terms," said Jack. "I don't mean to let myself go too cheap."
Garrod's head drooped. "Well—don't say I didn't warn you," he said in an odd, flat tone.