"I told you. I haven't any money for netting and staples."
"Go in that little room beside the granary and you'll find a role of netting. Kite yourself down to Pat Haley's during lunch hour tomorrow, get some staples, and tell Pat to charge 'em to me."
"But . . ."
"Will you let me finish?" Gramps said sharply. "I didn't say you were going to get any part of it for free. That roll of netting cost me four dollars and sixty cents. Add to it whatever the staples cost, and since you want to save your eggs for hatching, somebody's got to buy feed for your chickens. I'll take you on until you have fryers to sell, but strictly as a business deal. Just a minute."
Gramps wrote on a sheet of paper, shoved it across the table, and Bud read,
On demand I promise to pay to Delbert J. Bennett the sum of ——. My pen of White Wyandottes plus any increase therefrom shall be security for the payment of this note.
Bud looked inquiringly across the table. Gramps shrugged. "All you have to do is sign it and go ahead; you're in the chicken business if you want in."
"How much will I owe you?"
"I'll fill in the amount when the time comes," Gramps promised. "Do you want to sign or don't you?
"I'll sign," Bud said, and painfully he wrote Allan Wilson Sloan in the proper place and gave the note back to Gramps.