“I presume you come in regard to the traction matter?” he ventured.
“No,” I said, “not exactly. You own this place, I believe?”
“I do,” he said, staring at me.
“So far, so good,” I said. “Now, then, kindly tell me when you expect to abandon it.”
He backed away from me a few feet, gaping. He opened his mouth and for a few moments absent-mindedly left it in that condition.
“When do I expect to do what?” he inquired. “When,” I said, “do you expect to abandon it?” He shook his head as though he had some marbles inside of it and liked the rattling sound.
“I don't understand yet,” he said, puzzled.
“I will explain,” I said very patiently. “I wish to acquire by purchase or otherwise one of the abandoned farms of this state. Not having been able to find one that was already abandoned, though I believe them to be very numerous, I am looking for one that is about to be abandoned. I wish, you understand, to have the first call on it. Winsell”—I said in an aside—“quit pulling at my coat-tail! Therefore,” I resumed, readdressing the man with the side whiskers, “I ask you a plain question, to wit: When do you expect to abandon this one? I expect a plain answer.”
He edged a few feet nearer an electric push button which was set in the wall. He seemed flustered and distraught; in fact, almost apprehensive.
“May I inquire,” he said nervously, “how you got in here?”