"Which, the milk station or the other one? Ain't much to see over there, but the land's worth all of a hundred dollars an acre. But when we came out here from Connecticut it could have been bought for a song and they wouldn't have insisted on your carryin' the tune so mighty well. If you want to go jest to look, the milk station is as good as any and a good deal better than some; but if you want to get on the express train you'd better go to the other one."
"How far is it?"
"Which, the other one?"
"Yes, the other one. How far is it?"
"Well, if you walk, it's—"
"I don't want to walk; I want you to drive me."
"Oh, well, if that's the case I guess we can fix it. I'll drive you over for half a dollar. The train will be along about dark or a little after. You've got plenty of time."
"Have you a razor?"
"I guess I had the best razor you ever saw, but the woman (he meant his wife) took it one day and raked all the edge off it. But I've got another one, a rattler."
"Would you mind my shaving with it?"