Uncle Billy leaned blankly back in his chair. Little by little the light dawned on the ex-horse-trader. The crow’s feet reappeared about his eyes, his mouth twitched, he smiled, he grinned, then he slapped his thigh and haw-hawed.
“No!” roared Uncle Billy. “No, there wasn’t, by gum!”
“Nothing but the house?”
“His very own words!” chuckled Uncle Billy. “‘‘Jis’ th’ mere house,’ says he, an’ he gits it. A bargain’s a bargain, an’ I allus stick to one I make.”
“How much for the furniture for the week?”
“Fifty dollars!” Mr. Tutt knew how to do business with this kind of people now, you bet.
Mr. Van Kamp promptly counted out the money.
“Drat it!” commented Uncle Billy to himself. “I could ’a’ got more!”
“Now where can we make ourselves comfortable with this furniture?”
Uncle Billy chirked up. All was not yet lost.