"What do you want me to do about it?" I asked.
"I want to talk to you about a neighbour."
"I won't talk about any of my neighbours. Why don't you talk to him yourself?"
"I tried to, but he wasn't home. Fellow down the road said he'd gone into town. Whole family had gone into town."
"Reginald Heath," I said. There wasn't much sense in playing dumb with Rickard, for he knew all the angles.
"That's the man. I talked to folks in town. Found out he'd never had to have any repair work done on any of his machinery or his car. Has the same machinery he had when he started farming. And it was worn out then."
"He takes good care of it," I told him. "He keeps it tinkered up."
"Another thing," said Rickard. "Since he's been here he hasn't bought a drop of gasoline."
I'd know the rest of it, of course, although I'd never stopped to think about it. But I didn't know about the gasoline. I must have shown my surprise, for Rickard grinned at me.
"What do you want?" I asked.