“No,” she spoke up quickly. “We're looking for land. Do you know of any around here?”
Again he desisted from the egg, studying them with sharp eyes as if to fathom their financial status.
“Do you know what land sells for around here?” he asked.
“No,” Saxon answered. “Do you?”
“I guess I ought to. I was born here. And land like this all around you runs at from two to three hundred to four an' five hundred dollars an acre.”
“Whew!” Billy whistled. “I guess we don't want none of it.”
“But what makes it that high? Town lots?” Saxon wanted to know.
“Nope. The Porchugeeze make it that high, I guess.”
“I thought it was pretty good land that fetched a hundred an acre,” Billy said.
“Oh, them times is past. They used to give away land once, an' if you was good, throw in all the cattle runnin' on it.”