"We were passing and thought we'd look in," he said. "Found out yesterday that you were located here."
George called Grierson to take the team, and leading the new arrivals to the house, which was still in disorder, he found them seats in the kitchen. It was rather roughly and inadequately furnished, and Edgar had decided that Sylvia had spent little of her time there. After they had talked for a while, a man, dressed in blue duck trousers, a saffron-colored shirt, and an old slouch hat, which he did not remove, walked in, carrying a riding quirt. Grant returned his greeting curtly, and then the man addressed George.
"I heard you were running this place," he said.
"That's correct."
"Then I put in the wheat on your summer fallow; Mrs. Marston told me to. Thought I'd come along and let you have the bill."
His manner was assertively offhand, and George did not ask him to sit down.
"It's a very second-rate piece of work," George said. "You might have used the land-packer more than you did."
"It's good enough. Anyway, I'll trouble you for the money."
Edgar was sensible of indignation mixed with amusement. This overbearing fellow did not know George Lansing.
"I think you had better take off your hat before we go any farther—it's customary. Then you may tell me what I owe you."