“Ah! that's my secret—why I want it,” said Pepper, nodding. “Leave that to me. If I get bit by buying it, I shall have to suffer for my lack of wisdom.”
“You ain't bought it yet—you Pepper,” snapped Mrs. Atterson.
“But I'm going to buy it, ma'am,” replied he, rather viciously, as he stood up, ready to depart. “I shall expect to hear from you no later than Monday.”
“I won't sell it!”
“You'll have to. If you refuse to sign I'll go to the Chancery Court. I'll make you.”
“Well. Mebbe you will. But I don't know. I never was made to do anything yet. By no man named Pepper—you can take that home with you,” she flung after him as he walked out and climbed into the buggy.
But whereas Mrs. Atterson showed anger, Hiram went back to work in the field with a much deeper feeling racking his mind. If the option was all right—and of course it must be—this would settle their occupancy of the farm.
Of course he could not hold Mrs. Atterson to her contract. She could not help the situation that had now arisen.
His Spring's work had gone for nothing. Sixteen hundred dollars, even in cash, would not be any great sum for the old lady. And she had burdened herself with the support of Sister—and with Old Lem Camp, too!
“Surely, I can't be a burden on her. I'll have to hustle around and find another job. I wonder if Mr. Bronson would take me on now?”