"That's kind of her, but I couldn't do it," said Kate.
"She SAID you could," persisted the boy.
"But if I did it, and Father got as mad as he was last night and tore up your father's deed, then where would I be?" asked Kate.
"You'd be a sixteenth of two hundred acres better off than you are now," said Adam.
"Possibly," laughed Kate, "but I wouldn't want to become a land shark that way. Look down the road."
"Who is it?" asked Adam.
"Nancy Ellen, with my telescope," answered Kate. "I am to go, all right."
"All right, then we will go," said the boy, angrily. "But it is a blame shame and there is no sense to it, as good a girl as you have been, and the way you have worked. Mother said at breakfast there was neither sense nor justice in the way Grandpa always has acted and she said she would wager all she was worth that he would live to regret it. She said it wasn't natural, and when people undertook to controvert—ain't that a peach? Bet there isn't a woman in ten miles using that word except Ma—nature they always hurt themselves worse than they hurt their victims. And I bet he does, too, and I, for one, don't care. I hope he does get a good jolt, just to pay him up for being so mean."
"Don't, Adam, don't!" cautioned Kate.
"I mean it!" cried the boy.