“Very well,” returned Jarreth cheerfully, “very well.”
It was evidently no new thing to him to receive replies as tart as Sally’s. He turned on his heel and marched away down the lane before them, swinging his shoulders and his cane, yet somehow not giving the careless effect that he so plainly wished.
“Everybody hates Harvey Jarreth,” Sally explained when he was out of hearing. “I know it was not polite to talk to him so, but he makes me so angry that I never can help it. He is always getting the best of people and boasting about it, making money on sharp bargains, finding out things that aren’t his concern and then profiting by them. No one can trust him and no one can like him.”
“Does he really want to buy Captain Saulsby’s land, do you think?” Billy asked.
“He says so. My father thinks it would be a good thing for the Captain if he could sell it and if there really is such a person as Harvey Jarreth tells about who wants to buy it for a house. None of us has ever seen any such friend of his. And Captain Saulsby is a queer old man; he is dreadfully poor, yet you can’t possibly tell whether he will agree or not. It would be like Mr. Jarreth to get the land from him some other way, if he can’t buy it. He is so sharp at such things and the Captain is so careless!”
They had come to the mill-creek road by now, and were passing the door of the mill itself.
“That’s a funny old place,” Billy observed. “Does any one live there?”
“People lived in it a good while after it had stopped being used as a mill,” Sally said, “but it is empty now. Would you like to look in?”
The big timbered door was fastened only by an iron latch, so there was no difficulty about pushing it open and peeping in. The whole of the lower floor was one great room, with a crooked flight of rickety stairs at the back, leading up to the second story. The windows were small, making the interior full of shadows and very cool and dark after the hot sunshine outside. There was a big fireplace of rough stones, a bench near it, a table and a broken chair or two, with a three-legged stool in the chimney corner.
“Jacky and I come here to play sometimes,” said Sally, “although he doesn’t like it much. People used to say it was haunted, but of course that’s nonsense. Still it is pretty dark and queer and rather too full of strange creakings when you are alone.”