Solomon tugged at his own whiskers almost constantly during that forenoon. He and Mrs. Barnes visited the “Captain Abner place” and Solomon inspected every inch of its exterior. For some reason or other he absolutely refused to go inside. His conversation during the inspection was, for the most part, sniffs and grunts, and it was not until it was ended and they stood together at the gate, that he spoke to the point, and then only because his companion insisted.
“Well!” said Thankful.
Mr. Cobb “weeded.”
“Eh?” he said.
“That's what I say—eh? What are you goin' to do about that mortgage, Mr. Cobb?”
More weeding. Then: “Waal, I—I don't cal'late to want to be unreasonable nor nothin', but I ain't real keen about takin' no mortgage on that property; not myself, I ain't.”
“Well, it is yourself I'm askin' to take it. So you won't, hey? All right; that's all I wanted to know.”
“Now—now—now, hold on! Hold on! I ain't sayin' I WON'T take it. I—I'd like to be accommodatin', 'specially to a relation. But—”
“Never mind the relation business. I found out what you think of relations afore you found out I was one. And I ain't askin' accommodation. This is just plain business, seems to me. Will you let me have two thousand dollars on a mortgage on this place?”
Mr. Cobb fidgeted. “I couldn't let you have that much,” he said. “I couldn't. I—I—” he wrenched the next sentence loose after what seemed a violent effort, “I might let you have half of it—a thousand, say.”