"That is well," said Mr. Ferguson condescendingly. "I presume the boy is making five dollars a week or some such matter," he soliloquized. "That is very well for a boy like him."
"I made you an offer for your father's land in Colorado a few months ago," he went on carelessly.
"Yes, sir."
"You thought my offer too small."
"Yes, sir. Twenty-five dollars would be of very little value to us."
"There I disagree with you. Twenty-five dollars to a family situated as yours is, is no trifle."
A faint smile flickered over Fred's face. He wondered what Mr. Ferguson would say if he knew precisely how they were situated.
"Still," resumed the merchant, "you did right to refuse. I am inclined to think the land is a little more valuable than I supposed."
Fred was rather surprised. Was Cousin Ferguson going to act a liberal part, and offer anything like a fair price for the land? He waited curiously to hear what he would say next.
"Yes," continued Mr. Ferguson magnanimously, "I admit that I offered you too little for your land."