“You’ll sign sure?”
“Sure.”
“Get George,” says Mark.
I scooted off and began hollering for George, and pretty soon he hollered back, and when he was sure it was me he came out, and I told him what had happened.
“Mark wants you,” says I.
“Is it safe?”
I told him it was, and he came along. When we got back Mark took his pen, and a note-book to write on, and the option, and talked to the man a minute, and passed them down.
“Is that your signature, George?” says Mark.
“Yes.”
“You want this man to witness it?”