Marian looked at him closely.
"Sleep on this, Rod. A night's rest will give you a different light on the matter."
"A night's rest won't make any difference in the facts, Sis. The position is too complicated for a greenhorn like me. I believe I could assemble the plant, all right. And I think I could handle the laborers. But the endless outside detail is what I'm afraid of. That, and the responsibility, too. For instance, on a contract like this one in Iowa, the engineers must act as paymasters, each for his division. That means, reckon the men's time daily; make out their checks; handle their wages for them; and so on. Then there are my tabulated reports for the head office. Then my supplies. You have seen with your own eyes how much time and work just the buying of coal and machinery can demand. Then there would be a thousand smaller matters to look after. Taking it all in all, I don't want to make a try at this offer, then fail. So the sensible thing to do is, meekly to ask the company for a less impressive post."
"All that you would need for the extra work that you describe would be a competent book-keeper, Rod."
"Exactly!" Rod laughed shortly. "But a 'competent' book-keeper is the last employé that one can find for such hard, isolated work as this. What I need is not just a man to add columns for me. I need another brain, an extra pair of hands. I need the sort of first-aid that you have been giving me all these weeks, Sis. That's the sort of help that you can't buy for love nor money. That's all."
MARIAN WAS ON HER KNEES BY HIS CHAIR, CLASPING HIS COLD HANDS IN HER OWN.
Marian studied her brother's face. When she spoke, her voice was very gentle and low.
"All right, Rod. Telegraph head-quarters that you will accept."