"Red" had been listening attentively. He came close to Gilbert now, and said, "He wants the place. Didn't he just say so?"
"The place?" Gilbert repeated. "What the devil does he want the place for?"
Pell was growing impatient. There was too much quibbling. "We're losing time. Come on, let's get things settled."
Jones, however, was not to be hurried. "But I want to know why he wants this place so much." His suspicions were thoroughly aroused.
No one had observed Uncle Henry, who had silently wheeled his chair about until he got to the table, where Pell had left his satchel long ago. Like a curious old woman he now picked it up, brazenly opened it, and exclaimed:
"Hey! What the Sam Hill!" and backed away; but not until he had dipped his hands into the bag.
"What's the matter?" Gilbert asked, turning.
"It's full o' dirt! Just dirt!" Uncle Henry cried, and glanced about to see the effect of his surprising information.
"Dirt?" Gilbert said, not understanding.