"Why, no," says I, slow; "I cal'late 'tain't. I suppose there's no law against a woman's sellin' 'most any article that is salable, window screens or anything else if she wants to; but I can't see—"
"Why she should want to? Perhaps not. However, we needn't go into that just now. The fact is I do want to and intend to. I have secured a boardin' place here in Ostable and shall make the town my headquarters. This is a small community and one naturally prefers to be friendly with all the people in it. So, after thinkin' the matter over, I decided that it was best to begin with a clear understandin'. Do you follow me?"
"I—I guess so. Heave ahead; I'll do my best to keep you in sight. If the weather gets too thick I'll sound the foghorn. Go on."
"I am naturally desirous of securin' the hotel screen contract. So, I understand, are you. I have seen Mr. Parkinson, the hotel man, and he tells me that your firm and mine will probably be the only bidders. Now that makes us rivals, but it need not necessarily make us enemies. My proposition is this: You will submit your bid and I will submit mine. The party submittin' the lowest bid—quality of product considered—will win. I propose that we let it go in that way. We might, of course, do a great many other things—might attempt to bring influence to bear; might—well, might cultivate Mr. Parkinson's acquaintance, and—and so on. You might do that—so might I, I suppose; but, for my part, I prefer to make this a fair, honorable business rivalry, in which the best man—er—"
"Or woman," I couldn't help puttin' in.
"In which the best bid wins. I have already demonstrated the Eureka for Mr. Parkinson's benefit and left a sample with him. He tells me that you have done the same with the Nonesuch. I will agree—if you will—to let the matter rest there, submittin' our respective bids when the time comes and abidin' by the result. Now what do you say?"
'Twas pretty hard to say anything. I wanted to laugh; but I couldn't do that. If there ever was anybody in dead earnest 'twas this partic'lar young woman. And she wa'n't the kind to laugh at either. She might be in a queer sort of business for a female—but she was nobody's fool.
"Well," she asks again, "what do you say?"
I shook my head. "I can't say anything very definite just this minute," I told her. "I've got a partner, and naturally I can't do much without consultin' him; but I will say this, though," noticin' that she looked pretty disappointed—"I'll say that, fur's I'm concerned, I'm agreeable."
She smiled and, as I cal'late I've said afore, her smile was wuth lookin' at.