It was a feeble attempt on his part, and it had been quickly foiled. So there was nothing for him to do but to sit quietly in the chair that had been placed for him, and await the coming of Enos Walker.
Yet he could not help but wonder as he sat there, what had become of Pen. She had said that there was no young person there. Was the boy's absence only temporary, or had he left the home of his maternal grandfather and gone to some place still more remote and inaccessible? He was consumed with a desire to know; but he would not have made the inquiry, save as a matter of life and death.
It was fully five minutes later that the guest in the sitting-room heard some one stamping the snow off his boots in the kitchen adjoining, then the door of the room was opened, and Enos Walker stood on the threshold. His trousers were tucked into the tops of his boots, his heavy reefer jacket was tightly buttoned, and his cloth cap was still on his head.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Butler," he said. "I'm pleased to see ye. I didn't know as ye'd think it wuth while to come."
"It is always worth while," replied the colonel, "to meet a business proposition frankly and fairly. I am here, at your suggestion, to discuss with you the matter of the purchase of a certain tree."
Grandpa Walker advanced into the room, closing the door behind him, went over to the window, laid aside his cap, and dropped into his accustomed chair.
"Jes' so," he said. "Set down, an' we'll talk it over." When the colonel was seated he continued: "They tell me ye want to buy a spruce tree. Is that right?"
"That is correct."
"Want it fer a flag-pole, eh?"
"Yes. It is proposed to erect a staff on the school grounds at Chestnut Hill."