“And such a man is hard to find, Pole.”
“Huh, I should think so!” the farmer answered. “Captain Duncan told me he fell behind three thousand dollars in one year all on account of his manager being careless while nobody was there to watch 'im.
“He never paid his man enough,” Nelson said. “I shall not follow that plan. I'm going to pay my superintendent a good, stiff salary, so as to make it interesting to him. Pole, there is only one man alive that I'd trust that place to.”
Pole stared in a bewildered way. Floyd was leading him beyond his depth.
“You say thar ain't, Nelson?” was all he could say.
“And that man is you, Pole.”
“Me? Good Lord, you are plumb cracked—you are a-jokin', Nelson.”
“No, I never was more serious in my life. If I can't get you to take that place in hand for me, I shall sell it to the first bidder. Pole, I'm depending on you. The salary is three thousand a year, rent of the house free, and all the land you want for your own use thrown in.”
“Three thousand! Geewhilikins,” Pole laughed.
“I'd be a purty lookin' chump drawin' that much of any man's money.”