“I think you got my meaning the first time. How much?”
“Looky here,” cried Mr. Sisson indignantly, “ef you’re aimin’ to question my honor lemme tell you I got a sacred reputation at stake.”
“That is exactly my aim. What is the current quotation on honor in this vicinity?”
“Oh, well, if you’re willin’ to talk reasonable, come on over here closer so’s nobody can’t overhear us.”
Five minutes later Mr. Bugbee went over and opened the hall door. “You can come out now,” he said. “Our Christmas guest has gone. And all is well.”
Mrs. Bugbee came out. She still was pale. “What—what did you do with him?” She asked it tremulously.
“I have just corrupted the noble soul of the only truly unselfish individual we have met to date in these mountains. I might add that corruption comes high hereabouts. City prices prevail.” He took her in his arms and kissed her. “Let us now give thanks for deliverance from a great peril. We ought to do more than just give thanks. How about a little Christmas gift from each to the other?”
“But we decided that this year we’d spend that money up here.” She winced.
“Circumstances warrant a redecision. Besides, I’m thinking of useful presents—presents which will bring joy to both of us. A couple of those lovely light green railroad tickets back to New York! You give me one; I’ll give you one.”