“No, Horace, I'm sorry to say, not all of it. To be frank with you, since I came here, I've quietly acquired an undivided interest in that land. I may as well tell you first as last. I'm like you, Horace, I'm reaching out in all directions.”
I spoke in as serious a voice as I could command: the tone I use when I sell potatoes. Horace's smile wholly disappeared. A city feller like me was capable of anything!
“How's that?” he exclaimed sharply. “What do you mean? That field came down to me from my grandfather Jamieson.”
I continued to look at Horace with great calmness and gravity.
“Judging from what I now know of your title, Horace,” said I, “neither your grandfather Jamieson nor your father ever owned all of that field. And I've now acquired that part of it, in fee simple, that neither they nor you ever really had.”
At this Horace began to look seriously worried. The idea that any one could get away from him anything that he possessed, especially without his knowledge, was terrible to him.
“What do you mean, Mr. Grayson?”
He had been calling me “David,” but he now returned sharply to “Mister.” In our country when we “Mister” a friend something serious is about to happen. It's the signal for general mobilization.
I continued to look Horace rather coldly and severely in the eye.
“Yes,” said I, “I've acquired a share in that field which I shall not soon surrender.”