As Mr. Betts said nothing to this, either one way or the other, the major took a chair, it being the only chair in sight, with the exception of the chair in which Mr. Betts was slumped down and from which Mr. Betts had not stirred. Doctor Lake perched himself upon a bookkeeper's tall stool that wabbled precariously. Three other anxious local capitalists stood where they could find room, which was on the far side of the stove.
“Very seasonable weather indeed,” ventured the old major, still fencing for his start.
“So you remarked before, I believe,” said Mr. Betts dryly. “Did you wish to see me on business?”
Inwardly 'the major was remarking to himself how astonishing it was that one section of the country—to wit, the North—could produce men of such widely differing types as this man and the man whose delightful presence they had just quitted; could produce a gentleman like J. Hayden Witherbee, with whom it was a positive pleasure to discuss affairs of moment, and a dour, sour, flinty person like this Betts, who was lacking absolutely in the smaller refinements that should govern intercourse between gentlemen—and wasn't willing to learn them either. Outwardly the major, visibly flustered, was saying: “Yes—in a measure. Yes, we came on a matter of business.” He pulled up somewhat lamely. Really the man's attitude was almost forbidding. It verged on the sinister.
“What was the business?” pressed Mr. Betts in a colorless and entirely disinterested tone of voice.
“Well, sir,” said Major Covington stiffly, and his rising temper and his sense of discretion were now wrestling together inside of him—“well, sir, to be brief and to put it in as few words as possible, which from your manner and conversation I take to be your desire, I—we—my associates here and myself—have called in to say that we are interested naturally in the development of our little city and its resources and its industries; and with these objects in view we have felt, and, in fact, we have agreed among ourselves, that we would like to enter into negotiations with you, if possible, touching, so to speak, on the transfer to us of the property which you control here. Or, in other words, we—”
“Do you mean you want to buy these gasworks?”
“Yes,” confessed the major; “that—that is it. We would like to buy these gasworks.”
“Immediately!” blurted out Doctor Lake, teetering on his high perch. The major shot a chiding glance at his compatriot. Mr. Betts looked over the top of the stove at the major, and then beyond him at the doctor, and then beyond the doctor at the others. Then he looked out of the window again.
“They are not for sale,” he stated; and his voice indicated that he regarded the subject as being totally exhausted.