“What law?” says Silas.
“A lunacy commission,” says Pendagrast.
“Wait a bit,” says Silas. “Do you remember that roll of papers you lost on the mountain? Well, I found it. I don't need to tell you it contained your plans and a copy of the old survey, as well as the location of the coal that your engineers, who come here two years ago trout-fishin', had checked up for you.”
“Quinby,” says Pendagrast,—he was dealin' now,—“I'll take them options off your hands and give you a bonus of fifty thousand dollars; but you must agree to keep still until after I've dealt with these folks—”
“No,” says Silas; “I'm askin' two hundred an acre for the land.”
Pendagrast groaned.
“Two hundred! Why, that's what it's worth!” he says in a shocked tone.
“Of course,” says Silas. “That's what I want to get for these folks—all their land's worth.”
“But that ain't business,” urges Pendagrast, almost moved to tears. “Silas, my friend—” he began, conjurin' back that old winnin' smile.
But Silas shook his head.