"Well," Bull said slowly, "I'd have to have a place to sleep. And—I'm a pretty big eater."
"I guess you are," said Bridewell. "But if you do three men's work you got a right to three men's food. What else do you want?"
Bull considered, as though there were few other wishes that he could express. "I haven't any money," he apologized. "D'you think maybe you could pay me a little something outside of food and a place to sleep?"
Bridewell blinked, and then prepared himself to become angry, when it dawned on him that this was not intended for sarcasm. He found that Bull was searching his face eagerly, as though he feared that he were asking too much.
"What would do you?" suggested Bridewell tentatively.
"I dunno," said Bull, sighing with relief. "Anything you think."
It was plain that the big man was half-witted—or nearly so. Bridewell kept the sparkle of exultation out of his eyes.
"You leave it to me, then, and I'll do what's more'n right by you.
When d'you want to start work?"
"Right now."