“Good job we noticed it in time!” grinned Jim.
“I should say so! And we have to start in right now with a proper system; card indices, loose-leaf, cash book, ledgers, everything up to the minute. You’re the lawyer, Jim, the silver tongue, the eloquently persuasive. Me for the books, the financing, the adjusting and the accounts;––with a help out on the buying and selling end when required.”
“Right-o,––that’s the stuff!”
And so it was arranged.
At noon Phil ran over to break the news to Sol Hanson that he had quit,––for a season at least.
The big, good-natured fellow almost shed tears at the news, although he had known that Phil would be leaving him one of these days––but, as he had fancied, 332 for the purpose of ranching, not buying and selling property.
“Well, I been guess you ain’t no fool, Phil. You know your business pretty good. Jim too! You make dam-fine real-estate ginks.”
He scratched his head.
“Only I been left with one hell-job. Can’t get nobody take your place. You dam-fine blacksmith all shot toboggan to the devil.”
“Say, old man!” put in Phil. “I know a man that will suit you down to the ground.”