“This tractor doesn’t need so much as a ten-cent washer.”

He tossed the dirty rag into a red bucket by the wall.

“Did you get an invoice from some other shop?” he asked.

“No,” I said.

“Then someone is taking your father for a ride,” Joe said.

He picked up his heavy toolbox by the metal handle.

“Do I owe you for the inspection?” I asked.

“Buy me a coffee next time you’re at the diner,” Joe said.