"Ever hear anything like that before, Watson?"
There was a trace of dryness in the other man's smile.
"I have," he answered; "it's not quite new on the prairie. One or two of the boys I know have been through that mill."
He turned toward Winthrop.
"How did the blamed insect first get hold of you?"
"I'd a notion of getting married, and meant to raise a record crop. Went along to the blood-sucker, who was quite willing to back me, and took out a mortgage. Pledged him all the place and stock for what he let me have."
"Probably a third of its value," interposed Drakesford.
"About that," Winthrop agreed. "A big crop might have cleared me then, but we had frost that year, and he commenced to play me. Made me insure stock and homestead in his company—and I guess he stuck me over that. Then I had to buy implements and any stores he sold from him, at about twice the usual figure; and one way or another the debt kept piling up."
"Couldn't you have gone short in your payments before it got too big, and let him sell the place?" suggested Drakesford. "In that case, anything over and above what he advanced would have had to be refunded to you. Still, the man you dealt with would probably have provided for that difficulty."
Watson grinned.