By this time Bridewell had recovered his self-possession to some degree, yet his eyes were wide as he approached. "Yep. Just let it lean agin' that corner piece, will you, Hunter?" Bull obeyed. "That might make a fellow's shoulder sort of sore," he remarked, "if he had to carry those timbers all day." "All day?" gasped Bridewell, and then he saw that the giant, indeed, was not even panting from his effort. He was already turning his attention to the pile of timbers. "Here," he said, reluctantly drawing out some money. "Here's your ten." But Bull refused it. "Can't take it," he explained. "I just made the bet by way of talk. You see, I knew I could lift it; and you didn't have any real idea about me. Besides, if I'd lost I couldn't have paid. I haven't any money." He said this so gravely and simply that old Bridewell watched him quizzically, half suspecting that there was a touch of irony hidden somewhere. It gradually dawned on him that a man who was flat broke was refusing money which he had won fairly on a bet. The idea staggered Bridewell. He was within an ace of putting Bull Hunter down as a fool. Something held him back, through some underlying respect for the physical might of the big man and a respect, also, for the honesty which looked out of his eyes. He pocketed the money slowly. He was never averse to saving. "But I've been thinking," said Bull, as he sadly watched the money disappear, "that you might be needing me to help you put up the barn? Do you think you could hire me?" "H'm," grumbled Bridewell. "You think you could handle these big timbers all day?" "Yes," said Bull, "if none of 'em are any bigger than that last one. Yes, I could handle 'em all day easily." It was impossible to doubt that he said this judiciously and not with a desire to overstate his powers. In spite of himself the old rancher believed. "You see," explained Bull eagerly, "you said that you needed three men for that work. That's why I ask." "And I suppose you'd want the pay of three men?" Bull shook his head. "Anything you want to pay me," he declared. The rancher frowned. This sounded like the beginning of a shrewd bargain, and his respect and suspicion were equally increased. "Suppose you say what you want?" he asked. "Well," Bull said slowly, "I'd have to have a place to sleep. And--I'm a pretty big eater." "I guess you are," said Bridewell. "But if you do three men's work you got a right to three men's food. What else do you want?" Bull considered, as though there were few other wishes that he could express. "I haven't any money," he apologized. "D'you think maybe you could pay me a little something outside of food and a place to sleep?" Bridewell blinked, and then prepared himself to become angry, when it dawned on him that this was not intended for sarcasm. He found that Bull was searching his face eagerly, as though he feared that he were asking too much. "What would do you?" suggested Bridewell tentatively.