Hiram made a quick sale of the radishes at several of the stores, where he got eighteen cents a dozen bunches; but some he sold at the big boarding-school—St. Beris—at a retail price.
“You can bring any other fresh vegetables you may have from time to time,” the housekeeper told him. “Nobody ever raised any early vegetables about Scoville before. They are very welcome.”
“Once we get a-going,” said Hiram to Mrs. Atterson, “you or Sister can drive in with the spring wagon and dispose of the surplus vegetables. And you might get a small canning outfit—they come as cheap as fifteen dollars—and put up tomatoes, corn, peas, beans, and other things. Good canned stuff always sells well.”
“Good Land o' Goshen, Hiram!” exclaimed the old lady, in desperation. “You talk jest as though we were going to stay on the farm.”
“Well, let's go and see Mr. Strickland,” replied the young farmer, and they set out for the lawyer's office.
Mrs. Atterson sat in the ante-room while Hiram asked to speak with the old lawyer in private for a minute. The conference was not for long, and when Hiram came back to his employer he said:
“Mr. Strickland has sent his junior clerk out for Pepper. He thinks we'd better talk the matter over quietly. And he wants to see the option, too.”
“Oh, Hiram! There ain't no hope, is there?” groaned the old lady.
“Well, I tell you what!” exclaimed the young fellow, “we won't give in to him until we have to. Of course, if you refuse to sign a deed he can go to chancery and in the end you will have to pay the costs of the action.
“But perhaps, even at that, it might be well to hold him off until you have got the present crop out of the ground.”