"I'm willin'," was the response. "But ye see they're contracted. I'd git
into trouble with the sign-painter."

"Who is he?"

"Lives in Cleveland. I've got his name up t' th' house, if you'll come
along. He comes up here every spring and paints fences an' rocks, payin'
spot cash fer th' privilege."

"Oh, I see."

"Then he contracts with the soap man an' the medicine man to paint up
their ads. You're the young 'un from Elmhurst, ain't ye?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'd like to earn that extra five, well enough. My name's Parsons.
I've got three signs let on my property in the glen. Ef ye'll jest ride
up t' the house I'll giv' ye the feller's name."

"All right. Come along," said Kenneth, with sudden resolve.

The farmer rode a time in silent thought. He could not go fast, for the
beast was very lame. Finally he remarked:

"Ef ye buy up the sign painters, so's ye can wash off the letters, like
enough ye'll hev to pay him fer th' paint an' paintin', too."

"I don't mind," was the response.