"Want me?" came the reply. "Is Doc back? I been lookin' over this joint——"
"Get over here in a hurry. I need you."
Sandy turned to the office, where the two cribbage players were gazing up at him. He jerked his head slightly to Piute.
"Can I see ye a moment in private?"
"Certain, certain!" Piute rose with almost suspicious alacrity. He had been waiting and praying for just such an invitation. "Step into the back office, will you?"
When the two men were alone in the inner office, with the lamp lighted and the door closed, Sandy Mackintavers brushed aside all preamble and came direct to the point. He held in his hand the deed of trust, which he had not returned to Deadoak.
"I understand ye have a homestead in Morongo Valley. I'll offer ye a hundred cash for it." Piute's leathery complexion changed color.
"A hundred!" he repeated in injured accents. "Why, that there homestead is the very pride an' joy of my heart! She sure is. I aim to lay out pears in that there Valley next Jan'ary. Got water, she has——"
"Here's a mortgage on the property," and Sandy brutally tapped the paper in his hand. "I've bought it. It's two years old. Sooner than foreclose, I'll buy your title. Aiblins, now, ye have a price?"
Piute looked a trifle staggered, but shook his head firmly.