"Don't take it!" he said with vehemence.
Reedy Jenkins had just opened his office next morning and sat down at the desk to read his mail when Bob Rogeen walked in. Reedy looked up from a letter and asked greedily:
"Did you get it?"
"No." There was something ominous in Rogeen's tone.
"Couldn't you persuade them to sell?" Jenkins was openly vexed.
"I persuaded them not to." Bob's hands opened and shut as though they would like to get hold of something. "I don't care for this job. I'm done."
"What's the idea?" There was a little sneer in Jenkins' tone. "Decided you would go back to the old job selling pots and pans?"
"No," and Bob's brown eyes, almost black now, looked straight into Reedy's flushed, insolent face, "I'm going across the line to raise cotton."
Reedy's wide mouth opened in a contemptuous sneer.
"It's rather hot over there for rabbits."