"Yes," Graham returned: "the gas arrangement."
"It's a curious idea—quite different from the one I told you about; but I kinda took to it. There might be something to it, and again there mightn't. I've been thinking I might be willing to risk a few dollars on it, if we could come to terms."
"Do you mean it, really?" said old Sam eagerly.
"Not to invest in it, so to speak; I don't think it's chances are strong enough for that. But if you'd care to sell the patent outright and aren't too ambitious, we might make a dicker. What d'you say?"
"Why, yes," said Graham, quivering with anticipation. "Yes, indeed, if—"
"Well?"
"If you really think it's worth anything, sir."
"Well, as I say, there's no telling; but I was thinking about it at dinner, and I sort of concluded I'd like to own that burner, so I made out a little bill of sale, and I says to myself, says I: 'If Graham will take five hundred dollars for that patent, I'll give him spot cash, right in his hand,' says I."
With this Burnham tipped back in his chair, and brought forth a wallet from which he drew a sheet of paper and several bills.
"Five hundred dollars!" repeated Graham, thunderstruck by this munificence.