You see, he was a real-estate agent, though he'd never sold any land. But it's easy to be a real-estate agent. You can start with a sign. And Silas had started twenty years before.
“I wish you'd put your land in my hands to sell,” he kept on. “All I want is a ten per cent, commission if I make a sale. But you must give me a year's time.”
“Why,” I says, “that's an awful long time to take, Silas.”
“Well,” he says, “you've taken thirty years, ain't you, George? And your lowest price is two-fifty?”
“That's my askin' price. I'll accept two,” I says.
“Or as much more as you can get?” he says, laughin' in his simple way.
“Don't be foolish, Silas. If you got anybody feeble-minded enough to think he can farm that land, don't you try to dicker with him,” I says getting anxious.
The upshot of it was I signed a paper giving Silas a sort of option, him to be exclusive agent for one year. Then he handed me a dollar.
“What's this for, Silas?” I asked.
“Why, to bind the bargain,” he says, smilin' at me simple.