"Reasonable!" interrupted Wad. "He holds a sixpence so near to his eye, that it looks bigger to him than all the rest of the world; he can't see reason, nor anything else."
"I'll make him see it. Will you go and introduce me?"
"You'd better not have one of our family introduce you, if you want to get anything out of Dud Peakslow!" said Rufe. "We'll wait here."
Jack got over the fence, and walked quickly along on the Betterson side of it, followed by Lion, until he reached the road. A little farther down was a house; behind the house was a yard; and in the yard was a swarthy man with a high, hooked nose, pulling a wheel off a wagon, the axletree of which, on that side, was supported by a propped rail. Close by was a boy stirring some grease in a pot, with a long stick.
Jack waited until the man had got the wheel off and rested it against the wagon; then said,—
"Is this Mr. Peakslow?"
"That happens to be my name," replied the man, scarcely giving his visitor a glance, as he turned to take the stick out of the grease, and to rub it on the axletree.
The boy, on one knee in the dirt, holding the grease-pot to catch the drippings, looked up and grinned at Jack.
"I should like a few minutes' talk with you, Mr. Peakslow, when you are at leisure," said Jack, hardly knowing how to introduce his business.
"I'm at leisure now, much as I shall be to-day," said Mr. Peakslow with the air of a man who did not let words interfere with work. "I've got to grease this wagon, and then harness up and go to haulin'. I haven't had a hoss that would pull his share of a decent load till now. Tend to what you're about, Zeph!"