“I'd want every dollar if I was going to build it, but I am not,” said Jerome.
“What d'ye mean? Ain't ye goin' to start it to-morrow?”
“No, I've decided not to.”
“Why not, I'd like to know?”
“I'm going to wait until the Dale railroad seems a little nearer. I shouldn't have much business for the mill now if I built it, and there's no use in its standing rotting. I'm going to wait a little.”
Poor Ozias Lamb looked at him with his keen old eyes, which were, perhaps, dulled a little by the selfishness of his sore distress. “D'ye mean what ye say, J'rome?” he asked, wistfully, in a tone that was new to him.
“Yes, I do; you can have the money as well as not.”
“I'll give ye my note, an' ye can have this piece of land an' the shop—this ain't mortgaged—as security, an' I'll pay ye—fair per cent.,” Ozias said, hesitatingly.
“All right,” returned Jerome.
“An',” Ozias faltered, “I'll work my fingers to the bone; I'll steal—but you shall have your money back before you are ready to begin the mill.”