"Well, what will you do?"
"Why, raise the money on the property."
"How will you do that?"
"Sell it, of course."
I asked no further questions, but left him and went away. Before reaching home, to which place I was retiring in order to think over the position in which I was placed, and determine what steps to take, if any were left to me, I met the pleasant acquaintance I had made at the town-meeting.
"You look grave, Mr. Jones," said he, as we paused, facing each other. "What's the matter?"
I frankly told him my difficulty.
"So Laxton has got you in his clutches, has he?" was the simple, yet, I perceived, meaning reply that he made.
"I am in his clutches, certainly," said I. "And will not get out of them very easily, I apprehend."
"What will he do?"