“All right, ma'am,” Pole said. “I'll wait; I've got plenty o' time.” She went away, and he sat down on a rickety bench on the veranda, his hat still in his hands, his eyes on the passing carriages and street-cars.
Presently the owner of the house appeared round the corner. He was tall, clerical looking, ashy as to complexion, slightly bald, had sunken cheeks over which grew thin, iron-gray side-whiskers, and a despondent stoop.
“I'll have to git at that old skunk through his pocket,” Pole reflected, as his keen eyes took in every detail of the man's make-up. “He looks like he's bothered about some'n', an' a man like that's hard to git pinned down; an' ef I don't git 'im interested, he'll kick me out o' this yard. I'll be derned ef he don't favor Nelson a little about the head an' eyes.”
“How are you, Mr. Floyd?” Pole stood up and extended his hand. “Baker's my name, sir; from up the country. I was on yore farm in Bartow not long ago, an' I sorter liked the lay o' the land. Bein' as I was down here on business, anyhow, I 'lowed I'd drap in an' ax ef you had any part o' that place you'd care to rent. I've jest got two hosses, but I want to put in about thirty acres.”
A slight touch of life seemed to struggle into the wan face of the old man for a moment.
“I've got just about that many acres unrented,” he said. “The rest is all let out. You'd have good neighbors, Mr.—”
“Baker, sir—Pole Baker,” the caller put in.
“And good fertile land, too, Mr. Baker. May I ask if you intend to rent on the part-crop plan or for cash?”
Pole's eyes twinkled as they rested on a pair of fine horses and glittering carriage that were passing. “Ef I rent yore'n, Mr. Floyd, I'll pay cash.”
“Well, that certainly is the wisest plan, Mr. Baker.” There was a still greater show of life in the old man's face; in fact, he almost smiled. “Come inside a minute. I've got a map of my property, showing just how each section lies and how it's drained and watered.” He opened the door and led Pole into a wide hall, and thence, to the right, into a big, bare-looking parlor. “Have a seat, Mr. Baker; my desk is in the little room adjoining.” Pole sat down, crossed his long legs, and put his hat on his knee. When he found himself alone he smiled. “Captain Duncan thought a crabbed old cuss like that 'ud be interested in pore kin,” he mused. “Huh! nothin' short o' Vanderbilts an' Jay Goulds 'ud start his family pulse to beatin'. Le' me see, now, how I'd better begin to—”