I told him that I hadn’t.
“Peg went over to the mill about an hour ago. We haven’t seen anything of him since.”
There was some more talk. Scoop told me what to do. And in line with his instructions, I kept out of sight for ten-fifteen minutes. Then I went puffing to the door of the bridal suite.
“Well?” grunted young Gennor, when my knock had gained permission to enter.
“Mistah Ricks wasn’t at home, suh. But you [[161]]all am to come to his house to talk business. The folks say so.”
The listener scowled.
“What? Me chase after that hick inventor? I guess not! If he wants to get in on my proposition he’s got to come here.”
Something had to be done to make Gennor change his mind. And I jumped into a scheme of my own.
“Mah lan’,” I said, rolling my eyes, “you-all should ’a’ seen the funny talkin’ frowg Mistah Ricks is gone an’ ’vented. Ya’, suh, boss.”
A cunning look camped in Gennor’s eyes.