“There's a barber shop down the road. You might go there first, I should say. Not that you need it, but just as a novelty like.”
“Humph! I don't know. What's the matter with your razor?”
“Nothin'. At least I ain't found anything wrong with it yet.”
“Oh! Say, look here! you're a queer guy, you are. I ain't got you right in my mind yet. One minute butter wouldn't melt in your mouth, and the next you're fresh as a new egg. What IS your little game, anyway? You've got one, so don't tell me you ain't.”
Captain Cy was plainly embarrassed. He gazed at the “Shore to Shore” picture on the wall as he answered.
“No game about it,” he said. “Last night you and I agreed that nothin' was to be said for a few days. You was to stay here and I'd try to make you comfort'ble, that's all. Then we'd see about that other matter, settle on a fair price, and—”
“Yes, I know. That's all right. But you're too willin'. There's something else. Say!” The ugly scowl was in evidence again. “Say, look here, you! you ain't got somethin' up your sleeve, have you? There ain't somethin' more that I don't know about, is there? No more secrets than that—”
“No! You hear me? No! You'll get your rights, and maybe a little more than your rights, if you're decent. And it'll pay you to be decent.”
“Humph!” Mr. Smith seemed to be thinking. Then he added, looking up keenly under his brows: “How about the—the incumbrance on the property? Of course, when I go I'll have to take that with me, and—”
Captain Cy interrupted.