from curtailing our work.”
“Indeed?”
‚ÄúI have good prospects in a year or so‚Äù‚ÅÝ‚Äîthe Colonel looked up sharply, but said nothing‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äúand so I thought of a mortgage.‚Äù
“Money is pretty tight,” was the Colonel’s first objection.
“The land is worth, you know, at least fifty dollars an acre.”
“Not more than twenty-five dollars, I fear.”
“Why, you wanted seventy-five dollars for poorer land last year! We have two hundred acres.” It was not for nothing that this lady had been born in New England.
“I wouldn’t reckon it as worth more than five thousand dollars,” insisted the Colonel.
“And ten thousand dollars for improvements.”
But the Colonel arose. ‚ÄúYou had better talk to the directors of the Jefferson Bank,‚Äù he said politely. ‚ÄúThey may accommodate you‚ÅÝ‚Äîhow much would you want?‚Äù
“Five thousand dollars,” Miss Smith replied. Then she hesitated. That would buy the land, to be sure; but money was needed to develop and run it; to install tenants; and then, too, for new teachers. But she said nothing more, and, nodding to his polite bow, departed. Colonel Cresswell had noticed her hesitation, and thought of it as he settled to his cigar again.
Bles Alwyn arose next morning and examined the sky critically. He feared rain. The season had been quite wet enough, particularly down on the swamp land, and but yesterday