"'Possum's me right hand-man," said Nick O'Connor, with a twinkle. "Very useful, too. I can ride over an' help you get the crop in. You'll want to put in potatoes, too, won't you?"
"Yes, I suppose so," Tom said.
"Oh, there's money in spuds," said the big man. "And in fruit: you ought to make a bit off your orchard. And the hotels will always buy vegetables—likewise the summer visitors."
Aileen leant forward, a new light in her eyes.
"I can help in that," she said. "And, Mr. O'Connor, I want to go in for fowls—lots of fowls: chickens and ducks and turkeys."
"So you'd ought to. They take mighty little feeding: eat insecks and grasshoppers all the summer, an' they do fine on peas in the winter!"
"D'ly pea," said Tom, laughing at her.
"Yes, dry peas. We'll make him put in some for you, Mrs. Macleod—just a little crop."
"But how will I buy fowls? There are only a dozen or so here."
"Oh, 'Possum's the one to help you there," said the visitor. "What 'Possum don't know about fowls ain't worth finding out. Don't you worry, Mrs. Macleod, we'll fix it up all right."