“Poor and miserable, all right,––like the fool I was. But I’m not a fool any more. I know you. I know the world just a little better than I did five years ago.”
“Shut up, man! Do you wish the whole town to hear?”
“What if they do hear? I’ve nothing to hide;––I’m not like you.”
“And you’ll be getting a little more of what you have 64 already had, if you don’t go easier than you are doing. See here!––I’m busy, but I’m willing to start you off. What’s your price to get out of here for good and forget you ever knew me, and to forget me for all time to come?”
“One-half of all you have, and interest to date,––I to stay here as long as I please.”
The Mayor looked at Phil as if he were looking at a lunatic, then he smiled and started in to fill up a cheque.
“I owe you five hundred. I’ve tacked on a thousand more. There! The train leaves at 3:15 p.m. to-morrow. You get out on it. Do you understand?”
“Thank you!––but this place suits me. I like it and I’m going to stay.”
“You are,––eh! If you don’t get out with to-morrow’s train you’ll go out the day following, in a box, feet first.”
“Yes! Judging from what happened early this afternoon, I daresay you are quite equal to that kind of thing,” said Phil quietly. “But I’m going to stay all the same.”