Amos Weed sat down beside Rex, shifted his cigar to the opposite side of his mouth, and considered him thoughtfully.
‘Me and the wife have been talkin’ about you,’ he said. ‘Been wonderin’ just what you’re intendin’ to do, young man.’
‘Going to do?’ Rex lifted his head and looked at Weed.
‘Yeah—work.’
‘Oh, I hadn’t thought about that.’
‘I see. Mebby it’s none of my business, but are yuh fixed so yuh don’t have to work?’
‘Why, I—I don’t really know.’
‘Uh-huh.’
He came over and sat down beside Rex.
‘Your mother traded with me a long time,’ he said slowly. ‘She always paid her bill right on the dot.’