“Huh!” returned Low, “that’s whar you reckon wrong. I thought so when I took this land, and I found out my mistake too late.”
“What’s the matter?”
“Durned ef I know. The cattle won’t drink it, and I don’t like the taste myself. I’ve had to dig a well up on the hill thar and run the water to my house and barn through pipes. That cost a good bit, but it was the only way I could get water that would do.”
They were silent for a moment. Then Low said:
“I seen that cuss, Judson, to-day.”
“So?”
“Yes. He was up here with Claymore in the early morning. I met ’em and we had a jawin’ match. I spoke pretty hot, I reckon, but I can’t help it when I think how I’ve been used. Thar’s my wife and children, you see. I never have been able to give them the nice things I’d like to. Ef they had let me in on the deal I mought ha’ got money enough to dress my children right smart and send them to school in the city.”
“What should you say,” suggested Nick, “if you heard that the company had got left in buying your land.”
“Eh? Got left? What do you mean?”
“Suppose that, after all, the land proves to be as worthless as you thought?”