"Now, how much do you want for the place, Mr. Andrews?"
"Well, let me see," and Abner scratched his head in a thoughtful manner. "Oh, I guess fifteen thousand'll do all right."
"Fifteen thousand!" the agent exclaimed. "Fifteen thousand for that wretched place of yours, which is as poor as Job's turkey, so I understand. You must be crazy, man. Your farm isn't worth more than seven hundred dollars, and how have you the gall to value it at fifteen thousand? You don't pay taxes on more than five hundred, do you?"
"Mebbe I don't, Mister. But ye see there are some things ye'r not taxed fer, an' them's the things which you an' others seem to think very valuable. There's the situation, which is the finest in the country, accordin' to ye'r own statement. That should be worth five thousand; the view, fresh air, an' the boatin' an' swimmin' privileges, another five, so that makes ten thousand. Then there's the gravel on the place, an' I guess it's nearly all gravel, an' that's worth a great deal fer ballast, so I understand. It alone should bring fifteen thousand, but Jerry an' me are quite willin' to let ye have the hull outfit fer that amount, an' throw in the situation, air, an' sich things fer nuthin'."
The agent was angry now, and it was with considerable effort that he controlled his temper. He knew that Abner was making fun of him, and this nettled him exceedingly. He was, in fact, beginning to doubt the farmer's sanity. He glanced at Jerry and then at the waggon. In his excitement he had not thought of their presence as unusual. Where had they come from, anyway?
"Is that your horse?" he abruptly asked.
"Guess so."
"But aren't you sure?"
"No, sir-ee, I'm not. Ye'r never sure of that hoss. He's got a mind of his own, he has, jist like any pardner should have."
"Partner!" and the agent's eyes bulged with a new light. "Do you mean to tell me that he's the partner you've been speakin' about?"