There was nothing else to do, so I closed the deal with him and the mortgage was transferred from Barrington to Blickens, who, I guess, borrowed the money himself from the bank at three or four per cent., and pocketed the difference for his trouble. It seemed to me that there were more ways than one of making money in a bank.
That day I lunched at the Élite Restaurant, where I met old Barlow. To my surprise he asked me to go around to his house to dinner that night. I told him that I couldn't do that very well, because the Mater had just come home.
"Bring her with you," he said; so the Mater and I went to Barlow's house, where, for the first time, I met Mrs. Barlow.
Mrs. Barlow had been an invalid for a number of years and consequently had not been a factor in such social life as Farmdale boasted of. I was surprised to see how different Mr. Barlow was while with his wife—as sweet and kindly and gentle as a woman. I couldn't help comparing the difference between him at his home and at his business. There, while always courteous, he was considered cold and hard and exacting. When I came to think of it, however, I was not surprised at finding him so kindly, considerate and full of love for his wife, because I remembered the many kindnesses and quiet help that he had given me.
After dinner Mrs. Barlow and the Mater went up to the little sitting-room, while he and I stayed behind to smoke a cigar. We smoked in silence for a while. Then Barlow said abruptly, "By the way, Dawson, do you know how many automobiles went through Farmdale last summer?"
"No," I said, "I haven't the least idea—nor frankly any interest, either. I don't own a car."
"Neither do I," he said (he didn't, but he owned the finest pair of trotters in the county), "but we have some interest in everything that affects Farmdale."
"Surely," I returned, "and I quite agree that, if a lot of automobiles come through Farmdale, and stop at the Farmdale House, it helps their business and indirectly helps us."
"One hundred and seventeen a day," said Barlow.
"One hundred and seventeen what a day?"