“Dunno whar you heerd thet,” he replied. “I hain’t said I did.”
We mentioned the innkeeper’s name.
“Humph,” said Milt, “Tom knows more about folks sometimes then they do.”
“Don’t you want to sell?” said I.
“Wanter buy?” said he.
“I might,” said I.
“I might,” he answered.
There was not the slightest expression of mirth on his face. The professor did not know whether to laugh or not. But I laughed. I was born of Yankee stock.
“How about water?” I asked, becoming very practical.
“Well,” he said, “thet never dried up. Town main comes down the ro’d yander, from the Slab City reservoar. You kin tap thet if well water hain’t good enough fer ye.”