"You know the old way of repairing roads, Al. They dig the dirt out of the gutters in the springtime and fill up the rut holes, and then the next spring do the same thing over again, from 'generation to generation,' as the good Book says. I'm satisfied myself," he continued, "that our county will never go ahead until we begin putting down good roads. I was telling our Commissioners only yesterday that the First National Bank would guarantee the bond issue for any road- building work they would undertake in any part of the county."
The two men sat in silence for a time, looking out at the rain. Then they got up and started to walk to the other end of the mill.
"Why, hello, boy! Fishing?" remarked Al, as he noticed Bob for the first time.
"Yes," replied Bob.
"Catching anything, are you?" asked the banker.
"Well, you never can tell what you can catch on a rainy day," the boy replied slowly. "Uncle Joe greased the grindstone to-day for the first time in its history."
"You don't say!" laughed the banker; "who put him up to that, I'd like to know?"
Bob only grinned and remained silent.
"Well, it looks as though the rain were going to pass over," said the banker a few minutes later, as he looked out at his stranded automobile.
"What's your name, young man?" inquired the insurance man.