Meantime old man Easton had been quietly observant of the situation, and after the meeting of the cottagers was announced his suspicions that Jarrod was "not honest" took definite form and threw him into a condition bordering upon nervous prostration. He made a bee-line for the lawyer's cottage, and found Jarrod sunning himself on the front porch.
"Good morning, Mr. Jarrod," he began, cordially.
Jarrod nodded, but did not ask his visitor to be seated. He had just been going through the books of the partners and had discovered things that to his mind rendered social intercourse with a man like Easton impossible.
"I've called around to get that option," remarked the old man, seating himself upon the porch railing.
"What option?"
"The one I gave you so as to fool Wilder. You know what I mean," with an attempt at a jocose laugh which ended in an hysterical gurgle.
"Do you refer to the option you granted to me, as trustee for the cottagers of Tamawaca?" asked the lawyer, coldly.
"Why—why—that was only a bluff, you know. I gave you the option so as to buy out Wilder. You know that well enough."
Jarrod shook his head.
"The option belongs to the cottagers," he said. "You can't have it, Mr. Easton."