“I knew. Ain't much goin' on that I don't know; I make it my business to know. Why don't you sell out to old Holliday?”
“I don't want to sell. My boardin'-house has just got a good start and why should I give it up? I won't sell.”
“Oh, you won't! Pretty independent for anybody with a mortgage hangin' over 'em, ain't ye?”
“Solomon, are you goin' to renew that mortgage when it comes due?”
Mr. Cobb pulled his whiskers. “I don't know's I am and I don't know's I ain't,” he said. “This Kendrick business kind of mixes things up. Might be a good idea for me to foreclose that mortgage and sell the place to him at my own price. Eh? What do you think of that?”
“You wouldn't do it! You couldn't be so—”
“So what? Business is business and if he's goin' to put you out anyhow, I don't see why I shouldn't get my share of the pickin's.”
“But he ain't goin' to put me out.”
“He says he is. Now—now—clear out and don't bother me. When that mortgage falls due I'll let you know what I intend doin' with it. If you pester me now I won't renew anyhow. Go along home and quit your frettin'. Long's you're there, you BE there. What more do you want?”
There was a good deal more of this sort of thing, but it was all quite as unsatisfactory. Thankful gave it up at last.