"Yes," said Bob, smiling. "Clip has been my right-hand man. I can't say he has worked very hard himself, but he has superintended the others."
"Yes, missis; dat's what I done!" said Clip, proudly.
He did not venture to pronounce the word, for it was too much for him, but he was vaguely conscious that it was something important and complimentary.
"Then I must buy Clip a new suit," said Mrs. Burton, smiling.
"I'll buy it in St. Louis, mother."
When the grain was all gathered in Bob began to load it on the ferry-boat. Wolverton sent Sam round every day to report progress, but did not excite his nephew's suspicions by appearing to take unusual interest in the matter.
To prepare the reader for a circumstance which happened about this time, I find it necessary to introduce another character, who was able to do Bob an important service.
In a small house, about three-quarters of a mile beyond the Burton ranch, lived Dan Woods, a poor man, with, a large family. He hired the house which he occupied and a few acres of land from Aaron Wolverton, who had obtained possession of it by foreclosing a mortgage which he held. He permitted Woods, the former owner, to remain as a tenant in the house which once belonged to him, charging him rather more than an average rent. The poor man raised vegetables and a small crop of wheat, enough of each for his own family, and hired out to neighbors for the balance of his time. He obtained more employment on the Burton ranch than anywhere else, and Mrs. Burton had also sympathized with him in his difficult struggle to maintain his family. But, in spite of friends and his own untiring industry, Dan Woods fell behind. There were five children to support, and they required not only food but clothing, and Dan found it uphill work.
His monthly rent was ten dollars; a small sum in itself, but large for this much-burdened man to pay. But, however poorly he might fare in other respects, Dan knew that it was important to have this sum ready on the first day of every month. Wolverton was a hard landlord, and admitted of no excuse. More than once after the rent had been paid there was not a dollar left in his purse, or a pinch of food in his house.
A week before this time Dan was looking for his landlord's call with unusual anxiety. He had been sick nearly a week during the previous month, and this had so curtailed his earnings that he had but six dollars ready in place of ten. Would his sickness be accepted as an excuse? He feared not.