He said this so gravely and simply that old Bridewell watched him quizzically, half suspecting that there was a touch of irony hidden somewhere. It gradually dawned on him that a man who was flat broke was refusing money which he had won fairly on a bet. The idea staggered Bridewell. He was within an ace of putting Bull Hunter down as a fool. Something held him back, through some underlying respect for the physical might of the big man and a respect, also, for the honesty which looked out of his eyes. He pocketed the money slowly. He was never averse to saving.
"But I've been thinking," said Bull, as he sadly watched the money disappear, "that you might be needing me to help you put up the barn? Do you think you could hire me?"
"H'm," grumbled Bridewell. "You think you could handle these big timbers all day?"
"Yes," said Bull, "if none of 'em are any bigger than that last one.
Yes, I could handle 'em all day easily."
It was impossible to doubt that he said this judiciously and not with a desire to overstate his powers. In spite of himself the old rancher believed.
"You see," explained Bull eagerly, "you said that you needed three men for that work. That's why I ask."
"And I suppose you'd want the pay of three men?"
Bull shook his head. "Anything you want to pay me," he declared.
The rancher frowned. This sounded like the beginning of a shrewd bargain, and his respect and suspicion were equally increased.
"Suppose you say what you want?" he asked.