"Oh, not so long. It's light till nearly ten o'clock. Besides, we're in for a spell of fine weather, and a day or two longer won't make any difference."
"The usual price per acre, I suppose?" the farmer questioned, after a pause.
"Well, I presume nobody would be inclined to take less," Ralph said, with a laugh.
The farmer dived his hands into his pockets, contemplated the evening sky for several minutes, took two or three long strides down the garden path and back again, cleared his throat once or twice, and then he said—
"Will waant yer money, 'spose, when the job's done?"
"Unless you prefer to pay in advance."
The farmer grinned, and dug a hole into the ground with his heel.
"There ain't too much money to be made out of this place, I'm thinkin'," he said at length.
"Not at the price you suggest," Ralph said, with a twinkle in his eye.
The farmer grinned again.