"What land?"
Clark waved a casual hand north and east. "Any land over there."
He got no immediate reply. The minds of his guests were traversing the flat fields in which cattle grazed, that lay between the rapids and the town.
"You have seen to-day something of what we propose to do, but only some of it," he went on. "What's the present population of St. Marys?"
"About sixteen hundred," said Filmer thoughtfully.
"Well, gentlemen, assume that what you have seen is but the beginning, only the breaking of the ground. You may take it from me, you are safe in that. The population of St. Marys, five years from to-day, should be,—" here he paused for an impressive moment—"sixteen thousand, and in ten years, twenty-six thousand. Now where are those people going to live? Mr. Manson, here, doesn't take me quite seriously, but you, Judge, can you answer me; or you, Mr. Filmer? A good deal of it will fall on your shoulders."
"I don't doubt you," answered the mayor, "but I can use all my money in my business."
"As for me, I'm a government official and haven't any," added Worden, with a tinge of regret.
"Money has been borrowed before this"—Clark's tones were distinctly impersonal—"the bank is good and so is the future of the town, as I see it."
"Why don't you buy some yourself?"