He puffed twice on his cigar before he spoke again. When he did it was in a different tone.
“I see,” he said. “Humph! I see. Paine, does the town pay you rent for the use of that road?”
“No.”
“Has it been bidding to buy it?”
“No.”
“Is any one else after it?”
“No-o. I think not. But—”
“You THINK not. That means you're not sure. You've had a bite somewhere. Somebody has been nibbling at your hook. Well, they've got to bite quick and swallow some to get ahead of me. I want that road closed and I'm going to have it closed, sooner or later. I'd prefer it sooner.”
“But why do you want to close it?”
Before he could answer there came a knock at the door. The butler appeared.