“I don’t care to take a partner,” Ben firmly replied. His heart was growing heavier with every second that failure seemed more certain.
He nerved himself for a final effort. “If you don’t care to accept my offer, Mr. Madge, there’s no use wasting any more words over the matter,” he said, and turned to go.
A vindictive gleam shot from the old man’s eyes. He did not reply for a moment, but stopped Ben as he was going out of the door.
“I need the money,” he briefly said; “so I’ll take your offer; but I’m just a-givin’ it to you.”
Ben dived in his pocket with alacrity and produced a bill of sale for the lumber and bricks and also an agreement permitting him to work over the ground until the expiration of the lease. The dates of the latter he had omitted, as he did not know them.
He had opened his purse to pay over the money before he recalled the omission. It flashed upon him, too, that the paper should be signed in the presence of witnesses. He put his purse back in his pocket.
“Come to Hodges’ shop,—we must have witnesses,” Ben said.
Mr. Hodges was a locksmith, and owned a small shop in the old part of the city known as North Beach. He was Beth’s stepfather; and as she was Ben’s cousin, the boy naturally turned to him as a friend.
He looked up in surprise when his visitors entered, and gave them a gruff welcome.