"I couldn't take a dollar less. I'd rather keep her. Maybe I'd take thirty-eight, cash down."
Hiram Walton shook his head.
"I have no cash," he said. "I must buy on credit."
"Wall, then, there's a bargain for you. I'll let you have her for forty dollars, giving you six months to pay it, at reg'lar interest, six per cent. Of course I expect a little bonus for the accommodation."
"I hope you'll be easy with me—I'm a poor man, squire."
"Of course, neighbor; I'm always easy."
"That isn't your reputation," thought Hiram; but he knew that this was a thought to which he must not give expression.
"All I want is a fair price for my time and trouble. We'll say three dollars extra for the accommodation—three dollars down."
Hiram Walton felt that it was a hard bargain the squire was driving with him, but there seemed no help for it.
He must submit to the imposition, or do without a cow. There was no one else to whom he could look for help on any terms. As to the three dollars, his whole available cash amounted to but four dollars, and it was for three quarters of this sum that the squire called. But the sacrifice must be made.