Peter Brush laughed loudly.
“I mean,” he explained, “that we might as well go along together, now that you’ve got rid of that swindler.”
“With all my heart, Mr. Brush. I shall be glad of your company.”
“I ain’t goin’ to engage you as my secretary, for I wouldn’t know what to do with one if I had him. I can’t pay you twelve dollars a week, but if your money gives out I won’t see you suffer.”
“There’s one thing in the way, Mr. Brush,” said Tom, “I can’t keep up with your horse.”
“I’ll buy you one, Tom, at the next haltin’ place.”
“No need of that, Mr. Brush; I’ll buy one myself.”
“Have you got money enough?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll pick one out for you. I’ll see you don’t get cheated. Now, my lad, it’s gettin’ dark, and we’d better push on. You get on the horse, and I’ll trudge alongside.”