"See here, Mr. Jarrod," drawing his chair closer; "I take it we're friends, and can talk this over confidentially. What Tamawaca needs ain't to get back the few lots we've built on, but to improve what there is left. We need new walks and driveways and a lot of public improvements. We need to clear up the rubbish and make things look decent. We need a new hotel, and a lot of other things to please the people and make 'em happier and more comfortable."
"That's true," said Jarrod. "But why, as one of the owners of Tamawaca, haven't you attended to these things?"
"Me? How could I? I've only got a third interest, and the man don't live that can wring a nickel out of Easton for public improvements. I've quarrelled with him and fought with him for years to try to get something done; but he just won't. Says he hasn't got the money; and perhaps that's true, for we lose money here every year."
"Oh, you do, eh?"
"Of course. Everything the company owns is run at a loss—electric light plant, water works, ferries, hotel, boat liveries—everything! By hard work Nora and I manage to make a bare living from our little mercantile enterprises and the cottages we own and rent—just a bare living. But the company property is a dead one. If things were kept up better we might sell some more lots, and get more people here, and so make a little money; but Easton don't see it that way."
"How does he see it?"
"Why, he just wants to putter 'round and lose money. I've tried to buy him up, so as to make something of the place myself; but he won't sell. That is, he wouldn't sell before this. But I imagine he would now."
"Because if we sue him he will lose it all?"
"You've hit the nail on the head! Listen, dear boy: you take your committee to Easton tomorrow and threaten to sue him if he won't sell out for—say, er—thirty thousand dollars. That's all the property's worth. He'll sell, or my name ain't Wilder. Get an option to purchase within thirty days."
"And then?"