"Ah, by the way, Mr. McCabe," says he, "about that—er—Sucker Brook tract? Have you thought it over yet?"
Just like that, you know; as if it was something we'd been talkin' about for months, while as a matter of fact this is the first hint I'd had that Elisha P. was interested at all.
Not that it hadn't been put up to me. Why, three diff'rent parties had interviewed me confidential on the proposition, offerin' to let me in on the ground floor, and givin' as many diff'rent but more or less convincin' reasons for bein' so generous. One explains how he wanted to see the tract go to some local man instead of New York speculators; another confesses that their little syndicate is swingin' too much undeveloped property and has got to start a bargain counter; while the third man slaps me hearty on the back and whispers that he just wants to put me next to a good thing.
I come near swallowin' the bait too; for I'd turned over some Bronx buildin' lots not long before at a nice little advance, and the kale was only drawin' three per cent. Course this Sucker Brook chunk ain't much to look at, a strip of marshy ground along the railroad; but half a mile away they're sellin' villa plots, and acreage is mighty scarce so near the city line as we are. Took me a week of scoutin' among my friends to discover that this gang of real estate philanthropists had bought up the Sucker Brook tract on a private tip that a trolley extension was goin' to be put through there. So it might have been too, only a couple of the County Board members who was tryin' to pull off another deal got busy and blocked the franchise. Then it was a case of unload, with me runnin' as favorite in the Easy Mark Handicap. And now here comes Elisha P., straight out of the Trust Company, to spring the trapdoor himself.
"Why, yes, Mr. Bayne," says I. "I've chewed it over some; but I ain't quite made up my mind to take it on."
"You haven't!" says he, his nice, white, respectable eyebrows showin' great surprise. "But, my dear man, I personally had that offer made to you. Why, we could have—— But never mind that. I hope you may see fit to give us your answer by Saturday noon."
"That depends," says I, "on whether you come for it or not."
"I beg pardon?" says he, starin'.
"At the studio," says I, shovin' over one of my professional cards. "That's where I do business. So long, Mr. Bayne." And with that I throws in the clutch and leaves him gawpin'!
"Why, Shorty!" says Sadie. "How horrid of you! And Mr. Bayne is such a nice old gentleman too!"