"Good heavens, no!" I cried.
He smiled at my evident alarm. "I haven't either," he assured me, "but I thought perhaps you might have inside information. The idea came into my head when I found there was another party as keen to get the place as you."
"Another—party?" I gasped.
"I met Roper—of Bates and Roper, you know—coming out of the old man's house yesterday. I guess we each suspected the other of being on a private speculation, but after considerable sounding I found that he had been commissioned to buy the place. Then it struck me that you and this other party might have been quietly prospecting."
I shook my head. "I'm not after oil or gas wells or anything else in that line," I said decidedly. "I want the place for a quiet home. Who is this other—man?"
"I don't know. Roper didn't name his client, and of course I didn't name mine, but as far as I can make out we've both had similar instructions. It looks as if the old man were holding off to see who would make the highest bid. Now it isn't worth more than four thousand, but you can decide whether to bid higher or let it go."
If anything could have made me more eager it was the knowledge that someone else wanted Waydean. The thought of Marion's dismay if our home should be sold over our heads filled me with the determination to settle the matter at once. I told Brooks to go ahead to the extent of five thousand dollars.
"Well," he said, shaking his head with reluctance, "I'd rather lose my commission than see you give that, for the land isn't worth the money,—that is, for farming," he added, with a shrewd glance at me,—"but that's your look-out, and I'll do my best."