"Very good!" said Simon. "I will talk with Ambrose Doane and try to make him trade with us."
The meeting broke up. It was then a little after nine.
Simon and Ambrose went apart to a bench on the river bank. There were innumerable questions to be asked and answered. Simon estimated that the grain in question, provided they had no frost, would amount to twenty thousand bushels of wheat, and half as much oats. It was a momentous decision for a youth like Ambrose to be called upon to make.
The greatest difficulty was how to grind the wheat.
"You have an engine here?" asked Ambrose.
"Yes, for our thrashing-machine," said Simon.
"I could order a small process mill from outside," said Ambrose, "but it's doubtful if we could get it in this year."
"I have a hand mill," said Simon. "We call her the mankiller. Work all day, grind a couple bags of flour. It is very old."
"Could it be rigged to the engine?" Ambrose asked.
"Wa! I never think of that," said Simon. "Maybe grind four bags a day, then."