“You want—?” I repeated, slowly.
“I want a strip of your land. Want to buy it, of course. I don't expect you to give it to me. What's it worth, by the acre, say?”
I did not answer. All at once I was beginning to see a light. Captain Jed Dean's mysterious conversation at the post-office was beginning to lose some of its mystery.
“Well?” asked Colton, impatiently. Then, without waiting longer, he added:
“By the way, before you name a figure, answer me one more question. That road—or lane, or whatever it is—that is yours, too? Doesn't belong to the town?”
The light was growing more brilliant. I could see breakers ahead.
“No,” I replied, slowly. “It is a private way. It belongs to me.”
“Good! Well, what's that land of yours worth by the acre?”
I shook my head. “I scarcely know,” I said. “I've never figured it that way.”
“I don't care how you figure it. Here, let's get down to a business proposition. I want to buy a strip of that land from the Lower Road—that's what you call the one above here, isn't it?—to the beach. The strip I want is about three hundred feet wide, for a guess. It extends from my fence to the other side of that grove by the bluff. What will you sell it for?”