"You can? Remember they are fire-killed, Mr. Strong."
"I'll give you ten cents apiece for them, and I will have them cut and hauled, of course."
"For the land's sake!" ejaculated Miss Pringle, her bargaining instincts coming immediately to the fore, "I think that is an awful small price."
The young fellow laughed. "That is just ten cents apiece more than you had any expectation of getting for the burned trees, Miss Pringle."
"That may very well be," she argued. "But this is a bargain now. Money is money. If you think the trees are worth ten cents apiece to you, like enough they are worth a quarter each. I don't like to feel I've done myself in any deal."
"I'm afraid you will own the timber a long while at that price."
"For the land's sake, you can raise me a little, can't you?"
"I don't see how I can," replied Hiram gravely.
"I have heard that you Down East Yankees are as sharp at bargaining as can be. It does seem as though I ought to get fifteen cents apiece."
"The longer those blackened trees stand on your land, the longer the land will be worth just nothing to you, Miss Pringle."