Melvin flung himself on the grass and laughed till his sides ached; then sprang up again wild with eagerness to possess such a comical creature:
“Oh! Buy him—buy him—no matter the price! He’d be the life of the whole trip! I’ll give something, too, as much as I can spare!”
Jim tried to keep his face straight as he inquired:
“What is the price of Billy, sir?”
The farmer sighed, so long and deeply, that the mule lay down again as if pondering the matter.
“Young man, that there Billy-mule is beyond price. There ain’t another like him, neither along the Magothy nor on the Eastern Sho’. I cayn’t sell Billy.”
During his life upon the mountains James Barlow had seen something of “horse-traders” and he surmised that he had such an one to deal with now. He expected that the man would name a price, after a time, much higher than he really would accept, and the boy was ready for a “dicker.” He meant to show the other lads how clever and astute he could be. So he now returned:
“Oh, yes. I think you can if you get your price. Everything has its price, I’ve read somewhere—even mules!”
“Young man, life ain’t no merry jest. I’ve found that out and so’ll you. I cayn’t sell Billy.”
“Ten dollars?”