Anthony came at once to the matter at hand: Weir stood by the table and listened composedly.
"More time!" said Nathaniel, in almost a shriek. "Rufus Stevens' Sons asking more time! You are joking!"
"Three months' extension is desired on the note due to-morrow," said Anthony bluntly, a transcript of the bill in his hand.
"A man who asks for time these days asks for hard money," said Rehoboam. "He is demanding minted gold. And money of any kind was never scarcer."
"We should like to oblige you—" began Nathaniel, but Anthony stopped him.
"What terms will you make for another three months? You've done your worst here, it seems to me," glancing at the paper; "no man with bowels could ask for more."
"Consider!" said Nathaniel. "Think of what we must pay for money."
"Think," said Rehoboam, "of the charges, interests, bonuses, asked of us in each transaction."
"To save your words and my patience," said Anthony, "let us restate the present terms in the new bill."
"With an added twenty-five per cent. to fit the altered times, said Nathaniel eagerly. "And that will cover but half of what it will cost us."