“I say ye’re goin’ in ballast,” repeated the man; “yer wagon’s empty, ye know. Give me a ride, will ye?”
“Wal, I dunno,” said Arad slowly, with a sudden avaricious twinkle in his eye. “I know the team’s empty, but th’ mare ain’t s’ limber ’s she might be, an’ it’s hard trav’lin’.”
“Got an eye on the main chance, ain’t ye, ye old land shark?” muttered the man. Then he said aloud: “How fur ye goin’ on this road?”
“’Bout three mile furder.”
“What’ll ye take me that fur, for?”
“Wall, I dunno,” began Arad.
“Come, I’ll give ye a quarter,” said the stranger, fishing a handful of silver from the depths of his pocket.
The old man’s eyes flashed.
“Jump aboard,” he said briefly, and the black bearded man sprang to the seat with great agility.
“Ye’re some limber,” said the old farmer, in admiration, pocketing the quarter and starting up his horse again.