“Make it fifteen, and I'll take him. I don't want a dog that's worth less than fifteen dollars.”
“All right!”
“Mr. Giles, kindly settle with the gentleman.”
The hound was paid for, and Giles promptly took possession of him.
“That is the Colonel's way of advertising,” Smead whispered to me. “When he buys anything of a farmer he always overpays him, and the farmer never ceases to talk about it.”
In the lull that followed Smead rose and showed himself to the Colonel.
“Ha! There is Senator Smead and his famous overcoat,” was Buckstone's greeting.
“That coat has always worried me. In all my plans for the improvement of Griggs-by that overcoat has figured more or less. What will you take for it?”
Smead drew off his coat, which had a rolling collar of brown fur.
“I should not care to sell it,” said Smead, “but I will trade even for yours.”