“Yes, quite so; I see,” said Major Covington suavely; “but if we could agree on a price now—a price that would be satisfactory to you—and to us—”
“We couldn't agree on a price,” said Mr. Betts, apparently studying something in connection with the bulging side of the gas tank without, “because there isn't any price to agree on. I bought these gasworks and I own them, and I am satisfied to go on owning them. Therefore they are not for sale. Did you have any other business with me?”
There was something almost insulting in the way this man rolled his r's when he said “therefore.” Checking an inclination to speak on the part of Doctor Lake the major controlled himself with an effort and said:
“Nevertheless, we would appreciate it very much, sir, if you could and would go so far as to put a figure—any reasonable figure—on this property.. We would like very much to get an expression from you—a suggestion—or—or—something of that general nature,” he tailed off.
“Very well,” said Mr. Betts, biting the words off short and square, “very well. I will What you want to know is my price for these gasworks?”
“Exactly so,” said the major, brightening up.
“Very well,” repeated Mr. Betts. “Sixty thousand.”
Doctor Lake gave such a violent start that he lost his hat out of his lap. Captain Woodward's jaw dropped.
“Sixty thousand!” echoed Major Covington blankly. “Sixty thousand what?”
“Sixty thousand dollars,” said Mr. Betts, “in cash.”