I took it down, wiped a thin film of dust off the cap with my sleeve, and set it on the table next to his green ledger.

Twenty minutes later, gravel crunched in the driveway.

I went out onto the front porch as Dale shut off the engine of his gray Ford pickup.

In the open bed sat a heavy cardboard box full of bright yellow steel signs, next to a red metal toolbox and a cordless driver.

“I picked up the statutory size at the hardware store in town,” Dale said, climbing down from the cab and shutting the door.

“Heavy-gauge steel.