“I have a good reason,” answered Gerald. “I own some land in Gulchville, Colorado—eighty-five acres—and a rich syndicate formed in Chicago wants to buy it.”
“That is a very good reason,” said the merchant. “How much do they offer?”
“No definite offer has been made, but my tenant thinks they will be willing to pay me five thousand dollars.”
“Excellent. I was not aware that my youngest clerk was a man of property. Go by all means and make the best bargain you can.”
Gerald lost no time. He took the afternoon train to Kansas City, and thence went partly by cars and partly by stage to his old home in Gulchville. When he descended from the stage he saw at once a familiar face and figure. They belonged to Jake Amsden, who advanced to meet him with an eager welcome.
“Glad to see you, Gerald! How you’ve grown!” and Amsden grasped his hand as if they had always been the closest of friends.
“Thank you, Mr. Amsden,” said Gerald, smiling. “I didn’t imagine you would be so glad to meet me.”
“I’ve been longin’ to see you, my boy. It’s been very lonesome without you. And where is the Englishman you went away with?”
“He’s gone back to England. There was sickness in the family.”
“Is he coming back here?”