"Sign this, please," said Philip, showing the bill of sale. Then he passed over his own note for eighty-five dollars, and said:—
"I paid seventy-five dollars, cash."
"Well," sighed Marney, "that's a comfort—for besides knowin' how much 'twas, it shows what I wanted to b'lieve, that Bill was as much fool as scoundrel, else he'd 'a' ast more. Good-by, Mr. Somerton an' Doc."
The trio departed. The Doctor remained to condole with the victim, who could not help telling of his real-estate trade. The Doctor laughed,—but not too long,—then he said:—
"There ought to be finer grainings and markings, and, therefore, more money, in walnut roots than in the average of trees. I've been intending to experiment in that direction. As to that colt, let me drive him for you a few days; he may have the making of both prices in him."
When the Doctor departed, Philip got out his own horse and buggy, and insisted that his wife should drive, but Grace was reluctant to go. Something seemed to be troubling her. Philip asked what it was. "I wish Caleb were back," she said.
"Et tu, Brute? Now is my humiliation complete; but as Caleb is where he is, let us make the best of it." So saying, he indited the following telegram to Caleb, for Grace to send from the railway station, three miles distant:—
"Look up a buyer for big walnut stumps.
"Philip."
