“No, sir, I wouldn’t want to.”
“Nor twenty-five?”
“N-no, I don’t think so. Maybe I might, though, if anyone wanted it and would haul it away at that price.”
“I’ll take it,” said Uncle Israel.
[CHAPTER XXIII]
“PLAY BALL!”
Tom stared, open-mouthed. “You—you’ll take it, sir?”
Uncle Israel nodded. “If it don’t work like you say it will, though, I won’t pay a cent for it. We ain’t had a decent breath o’ wind for a month and we’ve been haulin’ all the water for the barn by hand. Windmills ain’t worth ten cents without wind and that one out there ain’t done a mite o’ work for a month, not to speak of.”
“But—but if you want it, sir, you may have it,” said Tom eagerly. “You’re perfectly welcome to it, Uncle.”