"Land isn't worth much to a lone woman like me, Mr. Strong," she simpered. "Unless a body's got a man—"
When Miss Pringle got on this tack Hiram always felt embarrassed. He started to break off negotiations at once.
"Oh, well, never mind. It was just an idea I had. Nothing much in it, I guess."
He started on, but she got hold of his sleeve and held him tightly. Hiram blushed, and he was sorry he had spoken about the timber. At any rate he was very glad that Lettie Bronson did not see him now!
"For the land's sake!" cried Miss Pringle, "you're so sudden, Mr. Strong. Won't you split the difference and give me twelve and a half cents?"
A bargain was a bargain, and it was up to Hiram to do the best he could for his employer. Besides, the use of the half-charred tree trunks was at best an experiment.
"Ten cents is my best offer, Miss Pringle. I can use a hundred of the burned trees; maybe two hundred."
"And only the charred ones, Mr. Strong?"
"You can keep tally on them," he said.
"All right. Seeing it is you, Mr. Strong," she concluded, her head on one side and looking languishingly at him. "We're such friends, you know."