William turned to him suddenly. “We’ll go down and draw out the money to-morrow morning,” he said.
Andy chewed anxiously. “I dunno as I can let you have it,” he protested.
“Oh, yes, you’ll let me. You see I need it, Andy, and I’m goin’ to pay you six per cent. How much do you get at the bank? Not more’n five, do you?”
“Four and a half,” said Andy, grudgingly.
“Four and a half. Well, you see, I give you six. So there’s a dollar and a half clear gain.”
Andrew’s eyes narrowed to the dollar and a half and fed on it awhile. “I shall hev to ask Harr’et,” he said.
“Now, I wouldn’t ask Harriet.” Uncle William spoke soothingly. “She don’t agree with you and me a good many times—Harriet don’t.”
Andrew admitted it. He chewed awhile in silence. “You’ll give me a mortgage?” he said at last. The tone was crafty.
“On my place!” Uncle William was roused. “No, sir, I don’t give mortgages to nobody.”
“Then I don’t see as I can let you hev it,” said Andy. “It’s fair to ask for a mortgage. What if anything should happen to ye—down there in New York? Where’d I be?” He looked at him reproachfully.