They talked of it on the way down, Sam seemed to think that Jim would find it pretty hard to leave New York. Sam himself wasn’t much interested in the continued, hints of Michael about going to the country.
“Nothin’ doin’” was his constant refrain when Michael tried to tell him how much better it would be if some of the congested part of the city could be spread out into the wide country: especially for the poor people, how much greater opportunity for success in life there would be for them.
But Sam had been duly impressed with the wideness of the landscape, on this his first long trip out of the city, and as Michael unfolded to him the story of the gift of the farm, and his own hopes for it, Sam left off his scorn and began to give replies that showed he really was thinking about the matter.
“Say!” said he suddenly, “ef Buck was to come back would you let him live down to your place an’ help do all them things you’re plannin’?”
“I surely would,” said Michael happily. “Say, Sam, do you, or do you not know where Buck is?”
Sam sat thoughtfully looking out of the window. At this point he turned his gaze down to his feet and slowly, cautiously nodded his head.
“I thought so!” said Michael eagerly. “Sam, is he in hiding for something he has done?”
Still more slowly, cautiously, Sam nodded his head once more.
“Sam, will you send him a message from me?”
Another nod.