Turning from the old man, Pole passed the clerks and a few customers in the store and went back to Floyd's desk, where his friend sat writing. “Got yore workin' gear on I see,” he observed, with a smile. “You look busy.” Floyd pointed to a stack of account-books on the desk and smiled. “The old man got these in an awful mess,” he said. “But I am getting them straight at last.” “How's business?” Pole asked. “In the store, pretty good,” Floyd answered; “but as for my own part, I'm busy on the outside. I closed a nice deal yesterday, Pole. You remember the offer I made Price for his plantation, furnished house, and everything else on the place?” “You bet.” “Well, he came to my terms. The property is mine at last, Pole.” “Gee whiz! what a purty investment! It's a little fortune, my boy.” “Yes, it's the sort of thing I've wanted for a long time,” Floyd returned. “Most men have their hobbies, and mine has always been to possess a model farm that I could keep up to the highest notch of perfection for my own pleasure and as an inspiration to my neighbors.” “Bully, bully place, Nelson! You'll always be proud of it.” “There's only one drawback,” said Floyd; “you see, it will never suit me to live there myself, and so I've got to get a sharp manager that I can trust.” “Ah yes, you bet you have!” Pole declared. “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.” “You'll draw that much of mine,” Floyd said, looking him straight in the eye, “and you will make me the best financial return for it of any man in the world.” “That's ridiculous, Nelson, you are plumb, stark crazy!” Pole was really frowning in displeasure over he hardly knew what. “No, I'm not crazy, either,” Floyd pursued, laying his hand on the farmer's shoulder. “You've often said that I have a good head for business, well--that's exactly what's causing me to make you this proposition.”