" It was a well-worn fraternal pleasantry that
had done duty many a winter's evening, as a happy combination of
moral admonition and cheerfulness. Maggie usually paid it the
tribute of a quick little laugh and a sisterly pinch, but that
evening those marks of approbation were withheld.
"Jim dear," said she, when their Spartan repast was concluded and
they were reestablished before the living-room fire. "What was it
the Redwood Mill Kempany offered you for that piece near Dead Man's
Slough?"
Jim took his pipe from his lips long enough to say, "Ten thousand
dollars," and put it back again.
"And what do ye kalkilate all our property, letting alone this yer
house, and the driftwood front, is worth all together?"
"Includin' wot the Gov'nment owes us?--for that's all ours, ye
know?" said Jim quickly.
"No--leavin' that out--jest for greens, you know," suggested
Maggie.
"Well nigh onter a hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars, I
reckon, by and large."
"That's a heap o' money, Jim! I reckon old Kernel Preston wouldn't
raise that in a hundred years," continued Maggie, warming her knees
by the fire.
"In five million years," said Jim, promptly sweeping away further
discussion. After a pause he added, "You and me, Mag, kin see
anybody's pile, and go 'em fifty thousand better."
There were a few moments of complete silence, in which Maggie
smoothed her knees, and Jim's pipe, which seemed to have become
gorged and apoplectic with its owner's wealth, snored unctuously.
Pages:
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39