Queeder looked out. “Yes, I b’lieve he kin write,” he commented. “Hi, thar, Lester!” he called. “Come in hyur a minute! We wantcha fer somepin.”
The rumbling ceased and in due time one Lester Botts, a farmer, not so much better in appearance than Queeder, arrived at the door. The prospector explained what was wanted and the agreement was eventually completed, only Botts, not knowing of the mineral which Queeder’s acres represented, was anxious to tell the prospector of better land than this, from an agricultural view, which could be had for less money, but he did not know how to go about it. Before she would sign, Mrs. Queeder made it perfectly clear where she stood in the matter.
“I git my sheer uv this hyur money now, don’t I,” she demanded, “paid tuh me right hyur?”
Crawford, uncertain as to Queeder’s wishes in this, looked at him; and he, knowing his wife’s temper and being moved by greed, exclaimed, “Yuh don’t git nuthin’ ’ceptin’ I die. Yuh ain’t entitled tuh no sheer unless’n we’re separatin’, which we hain’t.”
“Then I don’t sign nuthin’,” said Mrs. Queeder truculently.
“Of course I don’t want to interfere,” commented the prospector, soothingly, “but I should think you’d rather give her her share of this—thirty-three dollars,” he eyed Queeder persuasively—“and then possibly a third of the two thousand—that’s only six hundred and sixty—rather than stop the sale now, wouldn’t you? You’ll have to agree to do something like that. It’s a good bargain. There ought to be plenty for everybody.”
The farmer hearkened to the subtlety of this. After all, six hundred and sixty out of eight thousand was not so much. Rather than risk delay and discovery he pretended to soften, and finally consented. The marks were made and their validity attested by Botts, the one hundred in cash being counted out in two piles, according to Mrs. Queeder’s wish, and the agreement pocketed. Then the prospector accompanied by Mr. Botts, was off—only Queeder, following and delaying him, was finally handed over in secret the difference between the hundred and the sum originally agreed upon. When he saw all the money the old farmer’s eyes wiggled as if magnetically operated. Trembling with the agony of greed he waited, and then his hard and knotted fingers closed upon the bills like the claws of a gripping hawk.
“Thank yuh,” he said aloud. “Thank yuh,” and he jerked doorward in distress. “See me alone fust when yuh come ag’in. We gotta be mighty keerful er she’ll find out, an’ ef she does she’ll not sign nuthin’, an’ raise ol’ Harry, too.”
“Oh, that’s all right,” replied the prospector archly. He was thinking how easy it would be, in view of all the dishonesty and chicanery already practised, to insist that the two thousand written in in pencil was the actual sale price and efface old Queeder by threatening to expose his duplicity. However, there were sixty days yet in which to consider this. “In sixty days, maybe less, I’ll show up.” And he slipped gracefully away, leaving the old earth-scraper to brood alone.
But all was not ended with the payment of this sum, as any one might have foretold. For Dode and Jane, hearing after a little while from their mother of the profitable sale of the land, were intensely moved. Money—any money, however small in amount—conjured up visions of pleasure and ease, and who was to get it, after all the toil here on the part of all? Where was their share in all this? They had worked, too. They demanded it in repeated ways, but to no avail. Their mother and father were obdurate, insisting that they wait until the sale was completed before any further consideration was given the matter.