'I am going that way too,' said Ginger; 'let us go together. Walking is the only way. You know, we don't know who the intending purchaser is.'
'That so?' asked Bilton. 'Well, there's no reason any longer for secrecy; it's Lewis S. Palmer.'
'Lewis Palmer?' asked Ginger.
'Yes; pity your father didn't ask an extra ten thousand.'
'He would have, if he had known who the purchaser was,' said Ginger candidly. 'Do you know if Mr. Palmer means to live there?' he asked.
'No more than he means to live on the new Liverpool and Southampton line.'
'Ah! he hasn't got that through yet,' said Ginger, with a sudden feeling of satisfaction that there had been considerable difficulties in getting the Bill through the House last session. There had really been no reason why it should not have been passed, except that the Commons objected to it merely because the line was practically to belong to a man who was not English.
Bilton laughed a short, rather shoulder-shrugging laugh.
'London is the last place to know what happens in London,' he said. 'The Bill was passed this afternoon. Lewis S. Palmer owns that line as much as I own my walking-stick. He could sit down on the up-track and Mrs. Palmer on the down-track, and stop all traffic if he chose. You don't seem to like it.'
Ginger rather resented this, chiefly because it was true.