“Umph! Well, you can keep your darned old attachment.”
“Very well; and you can keep your land—what is left, I mean. I think you will keep it for some time—after I tell Mr. Keith the facts. He will be here this afternoon, you know.”
It was evident that Jeremiah was quite aware of the time of Sam Keith's arrival. His teeth—the few remaining—snapped together and, as Captain Shadrach said afterwards, he looked as if undecided whether to bite or put back his head and howl. Apparently he decided that howling was safer.
“I was cal'latin' to pay that bill of yours, anyhow,” he said.
“Of course, and we were calculating that you would,” said Mary sweetly. “Your calculations and ours are proving true, Mr. Clifford. That's nice, isn't it?”
From the direction of the back room, where Simeon was busy with his orders, came the sound of a smothered laugh. Shadrach, upon whom understanding of the situation was just beginning to dawn, slapped his knee. Mr. Clifford looked positively venomous.
“If I pay that bill—that—what was it?—that hundred and ten dollars you say I owe you—do I get that attachment off my land right away?” he demanded.
“If you pay the one hundred and ten dollars—and the sixty-three cents—I shall phone Judge Baxter the next minute,” said Mary promptly.
Jeremiah hesitated no longer. He had considered the situation in all its phases before leaving home and the one hundred and ten dollars was but a small item compared to his expected profit on the sale of the North Inlet land. He reached into his pocket, produced a long, dingy leather pocketbook wound about with twine, unwound the twine, opened the pocketbook and produced a blank check.
“Give me a pen and ink,” he snarled, “and I'll fill this in.”