"Pretty dear," he said, smiling, "but I'm glad you have shown so much interest. I'd almost give five dollars myself to save the old tree."
"Would you, father—would you?"
"But I don't want to encourage Hardaker in such extortion as that."
"But you know he's mad, father—that's why he sets the price so high. He thinks now that we can't raise the money, and so he can cut the tree down."
"Yes, I don't see any way to save it."
But George would not give it up, and pleaded his cause so well that his father finally told him that if he and Tom could raise the other twenty-five dollars in time, he would really give him five dollars.
The boys started out that evening in fine spirits to "solicit" for "George Washington." The enthusiasm over the historical "Old South Church" in Boston never ran higher. Mr. Prouty gave them one dollar, and Mr. Steele, the school-master, another. Everybody gave them something. It was astonishing to see how many friends the old tree had.
When school was out the next day, George and Tom started again for Farmer Hardaker's. They were feeling pretty well, for George had in his pocket a deed of the tree, drawn up by the village lawyer, and needing only the signatures of Farmer Hardaker and witnesses to make it valid, and thirty dollars in good current money.
They managed to catch their man just as he was starting for the station with a load of chestnut wood for ties.
"Mr. Hardaker," said George, politely, springing from the sleigh, and approaching the old man, "would you mind stepping into the house a minute, and signing a deed for me?"