Uncle Billy’s eyes twinkled.
“I reckon it kin be did,” he allowed. “I reckon a ho-tel man’s got a right to rent his hull house ary minute.”
“Of course he has. How much do you want?”
Uncle Billy had made one mistake in not asking this sort of folks enough, and he reflected in perplexity.
“Make me a offer,” he proposed. “Ef it hain’t enough I’ll tell ye. You want to rent th’ hull place, back lot an’ all?”
“No, just the mere house. That will be enough,” answered the other with a smile. He was on the point of offering a hundred dollars, when he saw the little wrinkles about Mr. Tutt’s eyes, and he said seventy-five.
“Sho, ye’re jokin’!” retorted Uncle Billy. He had been considered a fine horse-trader in that part of the country. “Make it a hundred and twenty-five, an’ I’ll go ye.”
Mr. Ellsworth counted out some bills.
“Here’s a hundred,” he said. “That ought to be about right.”
“Fifteen more,” insisted Uncle Billy.