Part 11 (1/2)
”So it does, and there's two that's made this bargain, your uncle and me.”
Mr. Bickford was not always strictly grammatical in his language, as the reader will observe.
”I don't admit my uncle's right to make arrangements for me without my consent.”
”You know more'n he does, I reckon?”
”No, but this matter concerns me more than it does him.”
”Maybe you expect to live without workin'!”
”No; if it is true, as my uncle says, that I have no money, I shall have to make my living, but I prefer to choose my own way of doing it.”
”You're a queer boy. Bein' a blacksmith is too much work for you, I reckon.”
”At any rate it isn't the kind of work I care to undertake.”
”What's all this rigmarole comin' to? Here we are 'most at my house. If you ain't goin' to work for me, what are you goin' to do?”
”I should like to pa.s.s the night at your house, Mr. Bickford. After breakfast I will pay you for your accommodations, and go----”
”Where?”
”You must excuse my telling you that. I have formed some plans, but I do not care to have my uncle know them.”
”Are you going to work for anybody?” asked the blacksmith, whose curiosity was aroused.
”Yes, I have a place secured.”
”Is it on a farm?”
”No.”
”You're mighty mysterious, it seems to me. Now you've had your say, I've got something to tell you.”
”Very well, Mr. Bickford.”
”You say you're not goin' to work for me?”
”Yes, sir.”
”Then I say you _are_ goin' to work for me. I've got your uncle's authority to set you to work, and I'm goin' to do it.”
Kit heard this calmly.
”Suppose we postpone the discussion of the matter,” he said. ”Is that your house?”
Aaron Bickford's answer was to drive into the yard of a cottage. On the side opposite was a blacksmith's forge.