“Oh, I’m not the only one who doesn’t. Si Hopkins is on his trail, and when he gets him there will be a new land agent at Waterville. That’s one reason I want you to wait about filing your claim—there may be a new agent any day.”
“How would we know if there were?” asked Ted.
“I’d tell you,” said Andy, with a smile. “So, don’t ask any more questions,” he added, noting the facial expressions of his youthful companions. “Just clear some land, seed it down. When you have done that, if I haven’t been over to see you, come to Chikau and I will advise you about going to Waterville.”
Vainly did the young homesteaders seek to learn more concerning the present land agent and the reasons for a possible change in the office, but though their questions were ingenuous, Andy parried them, changing the trend of the conversation at every opportunity.
“I’ll warrant if there is any change, it will be Andy Howe we find in the Land Office,” suddenly declared Ted.
Though this suggestion caused both boys to watch their companion closely, beyond casting a quick glance at the younger, Andy made no comment, merely announcing that he would see them within a few days, and after saying “goodbye” started back to his station.
“That was a shrewd guess of yours, Ted. Whatever put it into your head?” questioned his brother, as they went to select their tools for clearing the land.
“Oh, he seemed so bent on our waiting, I knew there must be some good reason. I hope he gets the appointment. Just the same, before we lay out any more money or work, I think we ought to find out about our entry being accepted.”
“So do I, but speaking of money makes me think, where are you carrying ours?”
“In my pocket-book, in the bag about my waist.”