“I can only suggest one way, sir, by which the money could be raised in so short a time.”
“Eh!” said the Squire, turning suddenly on him, and dropping the poker noisily in the grate. “You don’t mean to say that you can see how it’s to be done!”
“I think I do, sir. Do you know the piece of ground called Prior’s Croft?”
“Very well indeed. It belongs to Duckworth, the publican.”
“Between you and me, sir, Duckworth’s hard up, and would be glad to sell the Croft if he could do it quietly and without its becoming generally known that he is short of money.”
“Well?” said the Squire, a little impatiently. He could not understand what Tom was driving at.
“I dare engage to say, sir, that you could have the Croft for two thousand pounds, cash down.”
“Confound it, man, what an idiot you must be!” said the Squire fiercely, bringing his fist down on the table with a tremendous bang. “Didn’t I tell you that I wanted to borrow money, and not to spend it? In fact, as you know quite well, I’ve got none to spend.”
“Precisely so,” said Tom, coolly. “And that is the point to which I am coming, if you will hear me out.”
The Squire’s only answer was to glare at him, as if in doubt whether he had not taken leave of his senses.