"Ye like 'em, don't you, Lem?" remarked Bill, chuckling.
Townsend flushed; he looked appealingly at Mrs. Jones and Millie, his judicial manner gone. It must be confessed that Millie suppressed something resembling a giggle.
"You old fogies up here in the mountains have the wrong idea!" Townsend said, turning to Bill. "Why should two people be hitched together when they are pulling in different directions? That doesn't get them any place." He rose and reached for his hat on the veranda rail. "Well, I must be off. I'll get to work at once, Mrs. Jones. The Reno papers shall have your ad. to-morrow, and I'll get busy on some other things at once."
The two women rose, profuse in their thanks, which he smilingly waved aside. With a nod to Bill, and a rather formal bow to Thomas, he went down the steps.
Thomas resumed his seat and his dazzling smile; there was nothing in his manner to show that he had been thinking quickly. He crossed his legs easily and drew out another cigar.
"Have you ever thought of selling the place, Mrs. Jones?" he asked, suddenly.
"Why—why, no! Can't say as we have!" she answered, evidently surprised. "An' I don't know as we could if we wanted to. Ain't much call for a place like this, Mr. Thomas!"
"But you can't always tell about these things, my dear lady," said Thomas, addressing himself exclusively to Mrs. Jones. "It might not be so hard to find a purchaser, and at a good price, too."
"I—I don't think Bill would like to sell," she replied, doubtfully. "Would you, Bill?"
Her husband made no reply. He sat gazing straight ahead, his eyes half shut as usual.