“Twenty-nine barrel—on ice—” responded Manning.
Uncle William’s eye sought Bodet. “That ’ll give you two thousand dollar—putty near—?”
“I’m counting on twenty-three hundred—if I take them over myself.”
“When are you coming back?” asked Bodet quickly.
The young man turned to him—“Back here?”
“Back to my house?”
“You can’t have him yet awhile,” said William.
Bodet shrugged his shoulders. “Gunnion’s a fool!” he said.
“Well—I do’ ’no’ ’s I’d say that.” Uncle William considered—“He’s colorblind, mebbe, but he’s got sense.”
Benjy looked at him—“Do you mean to tell me that man can’t tell color?” he said sternly.