The Colonel rose, without a word, and lounged out of the room; when the door had shut behind him, Jerome turned again to the lawyer. “I want to know if you are willing to sell me two hundred and sixty-five dollars' worth of your land,” said he.
“Which land?”
“Your land on Graystone brook. I want one hundred and thirty-two dollars and fifty cents' worth on each side.”
“Why don't you make it even dollars, and what in thunder do you want the land on two sides for?” asked the lawyer, in his dry voice, threaded between his lips and pipe.
Jerome took an old wallet from his pocket. “Because two hundred and sixty-five dollars is all the money I've got saved,” he replied, “and—”
“You haven't brought it here to close the bargain on the spot?” interrupted the lawyer.
“Yes; I knew you could make out the deed.”
Means puffed hard at his pipe, but his face twitched as if with laughter.
“I want it on both sides of the brook,” Jerome said, “because I don't want anybody else to get it. I want to build a saw-mill, and I want to control all the water-power.”
“I thought you said that was all the money you had.”