"Old Wegg were a sea-cap'n once,
an' rich. He dumped a lot o' money inter that place, an' never got it
out agin', nuther."
"'Course not. Sixty acres o' cobble-stone don't pay much divvydends,
that I ever hearn tell on," replied Seth.
"There's some good fruit, though," continued Caldwell, "an' the berries
allus paid the taxes an' left a little besides. Ol' Hucks gits along
all right."
"Jest lives, 'n' that's all."
"Well, thet's enough," said the miller. "It's about all any of us do,
ain't it?"
"Do ye take it this 'ere Merrick's goin' to farm, er what?" asked Nib,
speculatively.
"I take it he's plumb crazy," retorted the agent, rubbing the fringe of
hair behind his ears. "One thing's certain boys, I don't do nuthin'
foolish till I see the color of his money."
"Make him send you ten dollars in advance," suggested Seth.
"Make him send fifty," amended the store-keeper. "You can't buy a cow,
an' pigs, an' chickens, an' make repairs on much less."
"By jinks, I will!" cried McNutt, slapping his leg for emphasis. "I'll
strike him fer a cool fifty, an' if the feller don't pay he kin go to
blazes. Them's my sentiments, boys, an' I'll stand by 'em!"
The others regarded him admiringly, so the energetic little man stumped
away to indite his characteristic letter to Major Doyle.
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