“She has been advised not to sell—at present.”
“Who by?”
“Mr. Strickland, the lawyer.”
“Humph! Mebbe I'd buy it—and give her a good price for it—right now.”
“What do you consider a good price?” asked Hiram, quietly.
“Twelve hundred dollars,” said the man.
“I will tell her. But I do not think she would sell for that price—nothing like it, in fact.”
“Well, mebbe she'll feel different when she comes to think it over. No use for a woman trying to run a farm. And if she has to pay for everything to be done, she'll be in a hole at the end of the season. I guess she ain't thought of that?”
“It wouldn't be my place to point it out to her,” returned Hiram, “coolly, if it were so, and I wanted to work for her.”
“Humph! Mebbe not. Well, my name's Pepper. Mebbe I'll be out to see her some day,” he said, and turned away.