CHAPTER XL. COLONEL JOHNSON COMES TO GRIEF.
We must now follow Johnson up-stairs.
In the room above, sitting down tranquilly in an arm-chair, but not in that in the center of the room, was a small, wiry man of unpretending exterior.
"What is your business here, sir?" demanded Johnson rudely.
"Are you the owner of this house?" asked Benjamin Baker coolly.
"Yes. That does not explain your presence here, however."
"I am in search of a quiet home, and it struck me that this was about the sort of a house I would like," answered Baker.
"Then, sir, you have wasted your time in coming here. This house is not for sale."
"Indeed! Perhaps I may offer you enough to make it worth your while to sell it to me."