“’Tain’t right,” says Mark, “but it hain’t the m-mill’s fault. It’s Wiggamore’s fault. Is it f-fair for Silas to lose all he’s got to benefit the p-public?”
“Don’t seem so,” says I.
“If there’s g-goin’ to be sich a heap of benefit from takin’ our dam, them thet gits the b-benefit ought to be willin’ to p-pay for it. That’s fair, hain’t it?”
“Yes,” says I.
“Because a thing’s big,” says he, “is no sign it’s got a right to gouge somethin’ else because it’s l-l-little.”
“No.”
“Well, I won’t be f-found standin’ in the way of their Power Company the minute it wants to be fair and d-d-decent. But so long as it tries to smouge Silas I’ll fight. Yes, sir, I’ll fight.”
“Guess you’re right,” says I.
“And,” says he, “one piece of f-f-fightin’ I’m goin’ to do concerns Jason Barnes. He’s a sneakin’ old foozle, and he’s goin’ to wish he never heard of Wiggamore or a dam or Silas before he’s more ’n twenty year older ’n what he is.”
“What do you want for the mill, anyhow? How much you figger Wiggamore ought to pay?”