"I—I've already bought it," I said, weakly.
"Yeh didn't pay more 'n nine hundred, did yeh?" he questioned, anxiously.
"No, I didn't pay more than that."
"I'm glad," he said, "for it wasn't 'prised any more. I like to see things in this world done fair. When yeh git moved I'll come to see yeh again. Good night."
He limped through the long grass and disappeared over the hill. On the way down I stopped at the Westbury home and reported my visitor. Mrs. Westbury, a handsome, spirited woman, laughed.
"That was old Nat, who lives just back of you. He's a good old body, but queer."
"I'm glad he's a body," I said. "I wasn t sure."
III
Our debt to William C. Westbury
Before going deeper into this history I think I ought definitely to introduce William C. Westbury, who sold us the place. How few and lagging would have been our accomplishments without Westbury; how trifling seems our repayment as I review the years. Not only did he sell us the house, but he made its habitation possible; you will understand this as the pages pass.