“This,” said Winthrop, “is block fourteen of Eagle’s addition. You see it is less than three blocks from the center of the town. It is one of the choicest blocks we have. If you want me to give you some advice, Mr. Gilder, I will do so, and say, buy a few of these lots. The price is only $100 each, and, in my judgment, they will be worth $500 before five years from to-day.”
Vance looked away into the distance at the farm lands, and the music of the sickle was borne lazily to him by a gentle breeze; then he turned his gaze toward the river, where the roaring waters were crowding down the rapids, proclaiming in thundering tones that Waterville was an exception to the rule. After a little he turned to Homer Winthrop and said: “I have been advised to keep clear of these new towns. The person who gave me this advice told me there were a few honorable exceptions to the rule. I must believe, from what I have seen, that Waterville is an exception. I will take twenty-five of these lots, and you may fix up the deed for them as soon as possible.”
The deed and abstract were delivered to Vance that afternoon, and his check for $2,500 was duly deposited in Homer Winthrop’s pocket.
“I may have been foolish,” said Vance, “to act so hastily in this matter.”
Winthrop turned to him, and placing a hand on either shoulder, looked squarely into his companion’s eyes, and said:
“My belief, Mr. Gilder, is that you have acted wisely, and if you will keep these lots five years, you will thank me for suggesting the advisability of making the purchase. I have but one request to make—that you will wait five years before passing judgment on my advice.”
“Your request is cheerfully granted,” replied Vance with great earnestness, and the two men clasped hands, and a bond of friendship was thereby woven.