"
Thankful stood up.
"All right," she said, decidedly, "then I'll go where they play the
honest game. And you needn't set there and weed your face any more on my
account."
Mr. Cobb rose also. "There! there!" he protested. "Don't get het up. I
don't say I won't take your mortgage, do I?"
"You've said a good deal. If you say any more of the same kind you can
say it to yourself. I tell you, honest, I don't like the way you say
it."
The owner of the "hen-house" looked as if he wished very much to retort
in kind. The glare he gave his visitor prophesied direful things. But
he did not retort; nor, to her surprise, did he raise his voice or order
her off the premises. Instead his tone, when he spoke again, was quiet,
even conciliatory.
"I--I'm sorry if I've said anything I shouldn't," he stammered. "I'm
gettin' old and--and sort of short in my talk, maybe. I--I--there's
a good many folks round here that don't like me, 'count of my doin'
business in a business way, 'stead of doin' it like the average poor
fool. I suppose they've been talkin' to you and you've got sort of
prejudiced. Well, I don't know's I blame you for that. I shan't hold
no grudge. How much of a mortgage do you cal'late to want on Abner's
place?"
"Two thousand dollars."
"Two thousand! . . . There, there! Hold on, hold on! Two thousand
dollars is a whole lot of money. It don't grow on every bush."
"I know that as well as you do. If I did I'd have picked it afore this.
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