'It's a d——d lie, sir. I doan't keer who says it,' he exclaimed, now really excited.
'Come, come, my fine fellow,' I said, rising and facing him; 'skip the hard words, and don't get up too much steam—it might hurt you, or your friends.'
'What d'ye mean? Speak out, Mr. Kirke. If ye doan't want ter buy 'em, say so, and hev done with it.' This was said in a more moderate tone. He had evidently taken my meaning, and feared he had gone too far.
'I mean simply this. This woman and the children cost you twelve hundred dollars four days ago. Preston wants them—must have them—and he will give thirteen hundred for them, and pay you in a year, with interest; that's all.'
'Well, come now, Mr. Kirke, thet's liberal, arn't it! S'pose I doan't take it, what then?'
'Then Roye, Struthers & Co. will stop your supplies, or I'll stop their's—that's 'SARTIN',' and I laughed good-humoredly as I said it.
'Well, yer one on 'em, Mr. Kirke, thet's a fact;' and then he added, seriously, 'but ye karn't mean to saddle my doin's onter them.'
'Yes, I will; and tell them they have you to thank for it.'
'What,' and he struck his forehead with his hand; 'what a dangnation fool I wus ter tell ye 'bout them!'
'Of course, you were; and a greater one to say you paid sixteen fifty for the property. I'd have given fifteen hundred for them if you had told the truth. But come, what do you say; are they Preston's or not?'