“Quite: I am resolved,” was the reply.
“You may change your mind?” suggested Chewkle. “No,” said Gomer. “Nothing will make me alter my determination.”
“I can,” observed Chewkle, emphatically.
“No; the same propositions and inducements have been held out before, but proved, after considerable cost, valueless.”
“This won’t,” urged Chewkle.
Nathan Gomer shook his head.
“I tell you it won’t!” cried Chewkle, almost fiercely. “Look a-here!” he exclaimed, in a lower tone, and touching Nathan on the sleeve; “you’d rather Wilton have the property than Grahame, wouldn’t you?” Nathan nodded.
“Well, suppose the man I spoke to you about last night was to die?”
“To die?” echoed Nathan, coldly.
“Yes, was to die all of a sudding, and I was to put into Grahame’s hand a cettifyket of the man’s death? He would push on his claim. Wilton’s only chance would be floored, and Grahame must win.”