“That ground is worth $100 an acre, any way,” exclaimed Morey, glancing at the chart he had made and the estimate he had secured from Marsh Green.
“Perhaps $25, but I doubt if that could be realized at a forced sale.”
Morey’s face fell.
“Isn’t any of it worth more than that?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Then the whole plantation isn’t worth more than $15,000.”
The Major nodded his head.
“I reckon we are up against it,” exclaimed Morey with a grim smile. “And I had figured it out to be worth $60,000 any way.”
“Some of the old place isn’t worth $10 an acre,” replied the planter. “The house you can not count as worth anything.”
“Except to us,” broke in Morey stoutly. “To us it’s worth just enough to make us want to keep it.”